


Beauty Is A Pretty Soul

by SmokySky



Series: Beautiful [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Episode(s) Related, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Just For Series 01, Love Confessions, Near Death Experiences, Requited Unrequited Love, Spoilers, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-08 03:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokySky/pseuds/SmokySky
Summary: Dora has always been Tommy's best friend, no matter how much she wished their love was of a different kind, but now change has come to Birmingham - and now matter how much Dora feels she belongs, it threatens to sweep her away.





	1. 1899 (Prologue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, none of this is beta'd _(we die like men, and all that)_ so there may be some spelling mistakes and grammatical errors scattered throughout this. I will probably catch them all eventually, but please bear with me while I do so.
> 
> Otherwise, please enjoy the story, and let me know what you think in the comments!

"Dora, when is mum going to be here?" Theodora's little sister Clara asked, tugging on Dora's shirt sleeve.

Theodora sighed, wishing she had a good answer for her little sister, but knowing whatever she reason she came up with would still probably hurt the little girl's feelings - so Dora decided she might as well be truthful: "Because she's looking after baby Hattie, Clara. She doesn't have time to walk us home today."

Clara's eyes watered: "But it's our first day at school and we don't know how to get home yet!"

"Of course I do." Dora reassured Clara: "I'm your big sister, aren't I? That means I know everything."

It was a lie, and Dora was only certain of about half the route home, but she didn't want to tell Clara that. Her little sister had been so nervous since their dad died and they'd been made to move house, and Dora didn't want to set her off on another of her crying fits. They always left Clara so tired, and Dora was too tired herself to carry Clara home.

So she put a wide smile on her face, took Clara's hand, and started on what she thought the way home was. About half-way - she thought - Clara started jumping up and down and waving to a girl her own age on the other side of the road, tugging on Dora's hand excitedly to go and join the girl. Dora held her back, looking carefully at the two boys that were walking with the other girl, noticing that they were doing exactly the same thing to her, and they weren't friendly about it. Maybe they thought Dora and Clara were strange because they were wearing boy's clothes - but all their older cousins were boys, and of course all their hand me downs were for boys! It wasn't like it really mattered - _clothes were all clothes, after all, as long as they kept you covered up _\- but people always teased Clara about that, and Clara always cried when she got teased, so Dora resolved to keep her sister on this side of the street and away from the unfriendly boys, only to see the girl leading them over anyway.

Dora tensed up, and glared at the boys still looking at her and Clara strangely, but didn't say anything - not when the girl was smiling just as widely as Clara was.

"Clara!"

"Ada!"

The two younger girls started babbling excitedly, from which Dora gathered that they were in the same class and the two older boys were the Ada girl's older brothers, Arthur and Tommy, but she didn't think all that much of either one of them, especially Arthur when he opened his mouth: "Why're you wearing boys clothes if you're girls?"

"So I don't get my dress dirty when I knock you about in the dirt." Dora snapped, ready to take Clara's hand and lead her away, only pausing to watch Ada smack her older brother's arm.

"Clara and her big sister wear boy's clothes because that's what their family gives them to wear!" she snapped, her voice not allowing for any arguments.

"Oh." Arthur responded, clearly catching Ada's real meaning - that Dora's mum couldn't afford new clothes for her daughters - and turning to nod an apology to Dora: "Sorry. Didn't mean to ask stupid questions."

Dora just nodded, suspicious of Arthur's apology since she'd just threatened to beat him up, but not wanting to bif a fight with a boy bigger than her: "'S fine."

"And I ain't mad at ya for threatening to hit me." the older boy continued, seeming to be a bit more friendly now Dora was calmer, hos tone brightening: "I'd do the same if someone asked me a question I didn't like."

"As he often does." remarked the middle boy, his face still but his eyes laughing.

It was all Tommy said on the way home - but the three older children didn't say much at all, letting Clara and Ada do all the talking, since it was clear the two of them had decided they were best friends as soon as they found out they lived on the same street.

When one of them did speak, it was mostly Arthur to the younger girls or Dora, but Dora decided that she didn't actually mind him so much. He was loud, but he wasn't mean, not like some of the girls in Dora's new class who had said mean things under their breath when they thought she couldn't hear them. They were stupid - but Arthur was a lot nicer than them. And Ada might not be as nice as her brother, but she was kind to Clara, so Dora didn't care if she made the occasional sarky comment about one of their other classmates. But when it came to Tommy, though...Dora couldn't say she was too sure about him.

He was too quiet, and his face was too still. He reminded her of the man in the nice suit who had come to their old house, the one who had sent the big men in to take away anything valuable to pay Dora's dead father's debts. And he never really stopped staring at her, with blue eyes that felt like they could see inside her head and know everything she was thinking.

Dora decided very quickly that she didn't like, or trust, Tommy.

And she was right not too - Clara and Ada ran off ahead at some point, Arthur running after them to make sure they didn't get into any trouble, and as soon as they were out of sight Tommy turned and shoved Dora against the wall, pressing his forearm against her throat as he leant in and glared at her: "If you ever threaten Arthur or any of my family again, I'll - "

"You'll what?" Dora taunted, using the little air she had in her lungs to laugh at the boy: "Cry?"

He looked confused, his hold slacking off as a result: "What?"

Dora didn't respond - not with words, at least. Instead, she kicked him right between the legs: just like her mum had told her and Clara to do if they were ever bothered by a strange man. Then she slammed her foot into Tommy's instep, and punched him in the throat.

She stopped short of raking her nails across his eyes, but only so he could look up at her from where he was gathering his breath on his knees: "Threaten me again, Tommy Shelby, and I'll make you regret it."

"Oh really?" he glared, grabbing her arm and yanking her into the mud, trying to roll on top of her and pin her to the ground. He was heavier, but Dora was faster, and kept rolling around with him until she could knee him in the stomach, and use his distraction to clamber up and away from him, separating them while so they both panted for breath and glared at each other...until Tommy smiled: "You're a good fighter, for a girl."

Dora rolled her eyes: "I'm better than you."

"Are not."

"Are so."

"Prove it."

"I already did, didn't I?" Dora teased: "I'm standing here, and you're still laying in the mud, so I'm clearly the better fighter."

Tommy grumbled, but he got to his feet without trying to reach for Dora again - not that she would have let him get close enough to grab her; she was watching him this time: "I meant it. You are a good fighter - and you didn't cry when you got your clothes muddy, not like Ada does...that means we can be friends, if you want?"

Dora considered it for a few seconds: he had tried to scare her, but he also didn't seem to mind that she'd gotten the better of him afterwards: "Okay. But I meant what I said earlier - you ever try and scare me again, or scare my sisters, and I'll put you back in the mud."

"That's why we're friends now, Dora. So we don't have to fight." he offered her his hand to shake, expression serious: "Friends forever?"

"Friends forever."


	2. 1919

A forearm pined Dora against the wall, but it was moving away as soon as it's owner realised who had tried to jump on his back.

Dora didn't let Tommy get away - he might have learned by now to avoid getting kneed in the balls, but he wasn't quick enough to avoid being almost tackled into the street. He didn't fall this time, but pulled Dora into him as she pushed him until she could jump into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as his arms went around her middle.

"Theodora Crawford, we're almost thirty now - you've got to stop trying to mud wrestle me in the street." Tommy laughed, spinning Dora around until she slapped his shoulders to make him stop, too breathless from laughing to actually form the words. Despite his words, Tommy didn't let Dora go - instead he carried over to where Charlie was rolling his eyes at them and holding Tommy's newest horse, Monaghan Boy.

He helped her clamber gracefully _(sort of, at least)_ onto the horse's back, before swinging himself up behind her and urging the horse onwards: "If I don't keep you humble, Thomas Shelby, no-one will."

"I believe Polly would beg to differ."

"Who'd you think told me to wrestle you in the streets?" Dora grinned.

Tommy chuckled, heading towards Watery Lane: "Goddamn women."

Dora smirked: "We run this show, Tommy, and don't you forget it."

"How could I?" he remarked dryly, before the pair of them lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Once upon a time, it might have been strange to see two 'men' sharing a horse, but no-one paid them any attention anymore; everyone knew about the Peaky Blinder with the plait of dark red hair, and everyone knew that Dora was very much a woman, and everyone knew who Tommy was now, and everyone knew occasionally the two of them shared a horse with each other, had done since they were children. Besides, even if they did think it odd, no-one questioned Tommy these days...or Dora, either.

Much as her mother had hated to admit it when she was alive, Dora had as much notoriety around Birmingham as Tommy did. She might not lead the Peaky Blinders, but she'd been Polly's muscle when the boys were off at war and left their aunt running the family business, and people didn't tend to forget those kind of things.

They certainly didn't forget the time Dora had left a man twice her size crying on a factory floor because he'd thought being on medical leave meant he was safe from harm and didn't feel like paying Polly what he'd owed her. Things had changed once the boys had come back and decided to push the women out of the more criminal plans, but Dora was still very much an active member of the Peaky Blinders...and she was still Tommy's left-hand man. There was a hierarchy within the Blinders: Tommy was at the head of the gang, with Arthur and Dora at his right-hand and left-hand. They and John made up his generals, in Arthur's war terminology. Then there were Polly and Ada - who were not officially members of the gang, but who were to be obeyed without question if they gave any orders. And then there were the others, men who had come back from the war with the Shelbys: men who could be trusted, but who'd had all their ambition drained away by their time in France. Good, loyal men. 

Even if times had changed - _even if Tommy had his own bloody army __nowadays_ \- Tommy still treated Dora the same way he had when they were kids. She knew everything he was up to, even if he and the rest of the men thought she and Polly shouldn't be calling the shots anymore. Which was why, even if she wasn't and never would be a Shelby, she was still invited to all the infamous Shelby family meetings.

She didn't always go - but Tommy always reminded her when she'd missed too many: "We're having a family meeting, and you aren't missing a third one in a row. It'd break Polly's heart."

Even if he reminded her in a tone of voice that always made Dora roll her eyes: "You just want someone to stand between you and Arthur when he finds out about the plan, don't you?"

"He's less likely to punch you." Tommy agreed, drawing the horse to a halt at the end of Watery Lane: "Now go put the tea on, like a good girl would."

"Do you want to get pushed in the mud before you see Zhang?" Dora asked, carefully swinging her leg up and over the horse's head - _and most definitely _not_ acknowledging that Tommy's hands tightened on her waist to steady her as she did so, or the way that him doing so made something low in the pit of her stomach tighten _\- so she could get down: "Because you're going about it the right way, if you do."

Tommy laughed, watching Dora let herself into the house before setting off for his meeting with Zhang and his fortune telling daughter - the first step in their plan to make Shelbys, and by extension the Crawford sisters, a little richer.

Dora didn't turn to watch him go, knowing that it would only make her feel like someone had wrapped a fist around her heart and was squeezing the useless bloody thing. That was what happened when you loved someone who didn't love you back - it had been like this since they were teenagers, since Dora had been old enough to know what love was, and by now she'd learned how to deal with the worst of it.

So she didn't watch him leave, she didn't look at the clock to see if it was any closer to the time he was due back, and she ignored all of Polly's knowing gazes as she went about her business: counting yesterday's take to make sure the numbers were all correct, tidying up the books _(bloody John not being able to write straight)_, and making notes of who had debts that needed collecting: all the usual parts of her job - and trying to keep Finn out of everyone's cigarettes. She threatened him with babysitting Clara's little girls again, and he stomped upstairs, but Dora knew that it probably wasn't the last time she'd have to count her fags tonight. She warned Polly and John to keep an eye on their own, but let Arthur fend for himself, since he was apparently in a bit of a shitty mood. Probably because he'd caught wind of Tommy' plan with Monaghan Boy - so she wasn't going near him until after the family meeting, when the air had been cleared.

As it was, Arthur continued glaring at her whenever she was in the same room as him, she guessed because he knew full well that she was involved in Tommy's newest plan _(since it was half her idea to begin with)_ and he wasn't happy about it...not that she blamed him. She'd wanted to get the family on board before setting the plan in motion, but as much as he still confided in Dora, it was becoming typical of Tommy these days he'd decided to go about his plan his own way. Now Arthur was pissed, and Dora wasn't even sure he was going to wait for the family meeting to lay into Tommy. She probably wouldn't, but Arthur could be unpredictable when he felt like it. And he often felt like it when he thought Tommy was trying to undermine him.

That alone made it unsurprising when Arthur called Tommy into the office as soon as he walked in - or that Tommy stormed out less than five minutes later. Polly and Dora shared a look, but stayed out of it. It was men's business, after all: neither of the boys would welcome their input, no matter how much they could do with it.

It was also enough for Dora to slip out before the family meeting - with Polly's approval.

She already knew about the specials coming in to Small Heath from Ireland, at the behest of the new Chief Inspector, and she didn't need to hear about Finn's attempt to sneak cigarettes. She'd also told Polly about her suspicions about the new barmaid - there were too many Irish finding their way into Small Heath for her arrival to just be a coincidence. Harry had told Dora that Grace Burgess was from Galway, had references from pubs down there and in Dublin, and that was all she'd told him. Dora had raised any eyebrow at him telling Dora about hiring her just because she'd done some singing while making what sounded like half an effort to do some tidying up one morning, but it was Harry's pub, and his decision to make...at least until they could prove that Grace was as untrustworthy as Dora thought she might be. Because that woman didn't look like no barmaid from Dublin: and she was an Irish protestant who had come to Birmingham the day after the new Irish protestant Chief Inspector - it was just too big of a coincidence for Dora to be comfortable with.

Polly would make a decision on when it was the best time to bring that up with the boys - and for now, Dora was going to get a drink in the Garrison with her youngest sister, Hattie.

Dora grinned when she saw her sister standing outside the Garrison, dressed in one of her many colourful dresses: a jewel-toned flash in the grey of Small Heath: "Hattie!"

"Dora!"

The sisters hugged, Dora pulling Hattie up onto one of the stools next to her and signalling to Grace: "A whiskey and a glass of red wine, if you would."

"I'm afraid we don't serve unaccompanied women at the bar - even ones wearing trousers."

"Ah, Grace - " Harry interrupted her: " - Miss Crawford here often drinks in the snug, along with the gentlemen who don't pay for their drinks."

"If you catch his drift." Dora sneered, keeping the expression firmly in place as Grace poured the drinks and handed them over, without charge, before heading over to a table in the corner, where she and Hattie could escape the barmaid's judgement.

They had a few minutes to chat about boys - _if Hattie was interested in anyone, if the widower next door was still causing her any bother, if Hattie was _sure_ she wasn't interested in anyone_ \- but there was no rest for the wicked: and then meant Dora.

Arthur and John appeared barely ten minutes into Dora and Hattie's conversation, apparently done with the family meeting and inviting themselves to sisters' table: Arthur ruffling Hattie's hair after John stole her hat and held it teasingly out of reach, just like he had when they were all kids.

No matter how old Hattie got, she was always going to be a baby to the Shelby brothers. They were brothers to all of the Crawford sisters, the same way Dora, Clara, and Hattie had become sisters to Ada, but as the youngest Hattie got special treatment. Arthur and John might tease her, but Dora knew they'd kill for Hattie, which was why she sent John a warning look rather than moving straight to what the boys called her calling card move - a sharp kick to the shins, administered to all her siblings_ (Shelbys included)_ when she felt they weren't toeing the line of decent behaviour. John had felt it more than most, so he very quickly gave Hattie's hat back, well aware what would happen if he didn't.

It was good being an older sister.

"So, when are you going to stop giving Tommy warning looks like that one you gave our John, and start kicking him the shins?" Arthur asked once Hattie had primly repaired her hair, and and used both hands to flip off both brothers.

Dora sighed: "What did he do, say, or threaten now?"

Arthur laughed: "Pissed Pol right off - talkin' about things not being women's business."

Hattie rolled her eyes: "You lot do understand Dora is a woman too, don't you? And Tommy is insulting Dora and Polly by cutting them out of a business they successfully ran for five years?"

"Nah, nah, we don't mean it like that." Arthur's eyes widened, not wanting to insult Dora or Polly; knowing full well what would happen if he did.

"'S that why you left right quick earlier?" John asked Dora, genuinely concerned - she didn't normally walk out just before a family meeting: "Because you don't like Tommy making the enterprise men's business? 'Cos we ain't ever gonna let you get pushed out; you're one of us, always will be."

Dora smiled - she had her reasons for leaving, but she didn't really want to discuss them with John and Arthur: "Nah, I just promised I'd meet Hattie, and I didn't know how long the meeting was going to be."

Bless her, Hattie caught on to Dora's lie and ran with it: "You know I don't like to be kept waiting."

Arthur took a sip of his whiskey and frowned, clearly not believing the sisters even if he wasn't going to call them out on it: "You an' him are alright though, aren't you Dora? You two have been friends for as long as I can remember and you've never had a falling out."

"Well, we're gonna if he keeps up this women's business versus men's business bollocks." Dora chuckled: "I've got the right to vote now, boys. I'm gonna take over fuckin' the world."

The boys laughed, while Hattie nodded solemnly and confirmed that that had been the suffragettes' plan all along: to get Theodora Crawford, the woman in men's trousers, to rule to world. John shrugged that she'd probably be better at it than their current MPs - which, to be fair, Dora reckoned wasn't untrue.

She also noted the sour expression on the new barmaid's face when she overheard them. Which was interesting, because with the pub this busy, Dora would have thought she'd be too busy behind the bar to be concerned with collecting their glasses. Apparently Hattie had had the same thought, with her younger sister leaning in to ask if there was something wrong with the blonde as soon as she was out of earshot. 

Dora nodded and told Hattie to keep an ear out for any information about Grace Burgess, the barmaid from Galway. Neither Arthur or John questioned her on why; they knew to trust Dora's instincts when it came to people - because they all knew Polly had trained her well enough to listen to what those instincts told her about strangers: especially strangers that turned up at times that made them inherently suspicious.

"She ain't to be trusted, boys, you hear me?" Dora warned Arthur and John: "Spread the word on the quiet. Nothing about our business reaches her ears."

John grinned: "You gonna handle paddies, Dora?"

Dora looked over at Grace, who was currently looking horrified at something Tommy had said to her from the window into the snug, and smirked at John: "If I have to John. If I have to."


	3. Nightmares

Dora jerked awake, sitting upright in her bed and looking around for what had woken her.

Rain pounded against the window outside, but it was dark enough that she couldn't see anything, only hear it. Everything else was silent, leading her to the conclusion it must've been something she dreamt that had woken her up. She lay back down, ready to fall back asleep, when there was the sound of someone pounding against the front door.

_Well, explains what woke me._

Knowing there was no good reason for someone to be trying to rouse her at this hour, whatever time it may actually be, Dora hauled herself out of bed and hurried downstairs. In truth, she already had a healthy suspicion about who was on the other side of the door - and she didn't want to leave him out in the rain.

Tommy was fucking skinny enough as it was: a prime candidate for someone who'd catch their death standing about in the rain.

Throwing the door open, Dora saw her suspicions had been bang-on once again and ushered Tommy inside, pushing the door shut behind him just in time to turn for him to bury his face against the space where her neck met her shoulder and throw his arms around her waist, hands fisting in the back of her nightgown. She returned the embrace without thinking: wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and stroking his wet hair while muttering comforting nonsense for him. Neither of them acknowledged the way his shoulders were shaking, or the fact that they both knew she could feel the difference between the cold damp of the rain and the hot damp of his tears against her skin. They just clung to each other in the dark, listening to the sound of the rain and Dora's own voice whispering that everything would be alright, until Tommy felt put together enough to pull back to face Dora.

She reached out to cup his cheek; she couldn't make out much more than his silhouette in this light, and by now she knew that letting Tommy think he was alone in the dark - _or, worse, back in the dark underground in France_ \- was possibly the worst thing she could do in this situation.

The best, if she wanted him to get any sleep tonight, was to distract him: "Can I get you some tea, Tommy? Or some toast?"

She felt him frown, his face creasing against her palm into a grimace, but his voice was steady when he replied - if a little slurred from what she guessed was exhaustion: "Won' keep it down...'m out again...s'why i's bad tonight..."

"Okay," Dora responded, having long since learned there was no point in fighting Tommy: "You want to go to bed, then?"

He nodded, and allowed Dora to help him out of his wet coat and boots before she helped him up the stairs. As she often was, Dora thanked her mother for leaving her the house when she passed, so there were no prying eyes watching Tommy stagger up the stairs and into her bedroom.

As it was, it was just Dora who saw him wobble as he stepped out of his trousers, leaving him in his boxers and the undershirt he'd been wearing under his coat. She picked up his trousers and hung them over the back of the chair by the window to dry while he got into the bed, then turned to pull an extra blanket from the top of the wardrobe. If Tommy was out of opium again, he'd get the shakes, and he'd be thankful for the extra warmth...not that he ever wasn't, given how he seemed to run a few degrees colder than everyone else.

She unfurled the blanket over the bed, and then settled down under the sheets: keeping a few inches space between her and Tommy until he turned to lie half on top of her, head pressed against the space just under her collar bone - where he could hear her heart beating the loudest. It was his silent way of telling her that he didn't want to talk tonight - not about the nightmare that had woken him, or about business, or even about the rain outside. He just wanted to be near someone he could trust not to use his vulnerability against him, even for a good reason...and that was pretty much just Dora, the only one stupid enough not to try and force him to take a break, rest for the sake of his health. She liked to think it was because she truly believed that he'd only get worse if he stopped long enough to really think about anything, but at times like this, when he was crying silently against her chest, Dora secretly had to wonder if maybe she should force him to rest, that maybe he would have to get worse before he got better.

But whether she was doing the right thing or not wasn't a debate for right now - so Dora focused hugging Tommy close and gently stroking his hair, until his breathing evened out at his finally fell asleep.

She didn't try and get any sleep herself - she hummed quietly, an old lullaby her mum had sung her, Clara, and Hattie when they were sick. The words were long forgotten, but the humming seemed to go a little way towards keeping Tommy's nightmares at bay, and one sleepless night for Dora meant that Tommy would finally get some rest...well, she didn't even have to think about it. Sure, it wasn't the ideal start to her day: but it was worth it for Tommy's well being.

Of course, Dora should've known that in Small Heath, bad luck came in threes.

First was the sleepless night.

Second was walking to the Shelby house, only to have a bruised and bleeding Arthur thrown into her arms just a few steps from the front door. By coppers that were on the Blinder's payroll, no less.

Dora had made a note of every one of their faces, but hadn't had time to threaten them with any retribution; too worried about getting Arthur into the house out of sight before they attracted too much attention from the 'civilians'. She rushed Arthur to the kitchen table, and had Finn run for Clara, a trained nurse, while Polly and Ada made a start on cleaning him up - which was as welcomed by Arthur as any of them would've expected.

Secretly relieved that Arthur was at least well enough to argue with Ada, Dora let the usual family bickering wash over, too busy planning their next step to worry about whether or not Ada's one day - _rather, her half a day, as her brothers reminded her_ \- of medical training in a Church Hall made her a suitable nurse.

This was a serious incident; it had put them on the back foot - and likely given Inspector Campbell the impression that he could do whatever he wanted to the Peaky Blinders.

It was an illusion that he needed to be stripped off as soon as possible.

The Peaky Blinders were strong...but they were also _feared_, and a lot of what Tommy got away with was because of that fear people felt whenever they saw a razor glinting in a peaked cap. Without that fear, they wouldn't be able to charge for protection, they risked having their bookies mugged when taking bets in the pubs, and they wouldn't be able to keep Campbell's specials away - because Dora was pretty sure they couldn't be bribed like Moss's men could be. Neither the police generally or Campbell specifically could be allowed to think that the Blinders were in any way the slightest bit weak, or life could get very difficult for them. Especially because, if asked, Dora had no idea why Campbell would want to target them.

Of course, that wasn't exactly true.

_Bad luck comes in threes._

This situation was already a fucking mess - and Dora was absolutely certain that it was going to get a hell of a lot messier before the day was over. Because if this wasn't about those fucking guns from the BSA, then Dora would eat her cap, razors and all...and one way or another, that was going to have to come out to the family.

Arthur should have known to be more careful, but he hadn't (and still didn't) because Tommy hadn't seen fit to warn anyone but Dora and Charlie about his latest plot. Who knew was going to be next? John? Polly? Finn?

No amount of Tommy swanning in with a bottle of something to help clean Arthur up was going to make this situation better. He was going to have to come clean to them all, because she wasn't going to let anyone else get hurt because he had kept them in the dark. If Campbell hadn't said anything, and if Tommy didn't confess himself before this conversation was over, then Dora was damn-well going to tell the family everything herself.

"Campbell said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham." Arthur gritted out, as Tommy pressed an alcohol-soaked rag to the biggest cut on his face: "National interest, he said. Something about a robbery at the BSA. Said he wants our help."

Tommy slouched back, clearly put on the back foot by what Arthur had said, but it was John who spoke next: "We don't help coppers."

Arthur wasn't put off: "He knew all about our war records - called us patriots, like himself. Wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said - " Arthur hissed, as Polly wound his bandages tighter: "That we'd have a family meeting and take a vote."

Tommy didn't say anything.

Dora watched and waited, hoping that he'd just say something about the fact that he knew about the robbery, the guns, the Inspector being after them. Any of it. She wasn't expecting him to apologise, hell would freeze over before he did that, but she wanted him to just...say _something_ to the family.

But he didn't.

Instead, it was Arthur who spoke next: "Well, why not? We've got no truck with Fenians or communists...no? What's wrong with you?" Arthur snapped, looking to Polly for answers: "What the fuck is wrong with him these days?"

Polly looked Tommy in the eye, making Dora think that maybe she knew more than Dora had thought she did, but she didn't say anything that gave what she knew away: "If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton Chemists."

_Enough_.

"There's nothing wrong with him - " Dora started.

Tommy nodded: "Thank you, Dora."

" - Not any more than usual anyway." she snapped, glaring at him for interrupting her: "But there's a reason that he doesn't want to help Campbell, and it's got nothing to do coppers, Fenians, or communists."

"Dora," Tommy warned, but Dora was beyond listening.

She'd had enough of keeping secrets that got her family hurt: "Either the next words out of your mouth are the truth, or your mouth better shut." she waited, but when Tommy only glared at her, she started speaking again, turning away from him to look at the others: "The reason Tommy doesn't want to help the Inspector is because he's the one the Campbell's fucking looking for."

"A fucking word, Dora, if you'd be so kind." Tommy snarled, grabbing Dora's arm and dragging her out of the kitchen.

She shook him off, not willing to be treated like a child anyone, not least Tommy, but followed him out of the house without argument...at least not just then.

Dora was fairly sure there would be an argument, but Small Heath didn't need to see Tommy fighting with one of his generals in the street, because fear in him had been shaken enough today, with Arthur being attacked, so she wasn't going to start shouting at Tommy in the street. Even if he fucking deserved it...even if it was the last thing Dora wanted to do.

She was never one to back down from a fight, be it physical or verbal, but just the thought of fighting with Tommy made her feel sick. They never fought; at worst they'd snapped at each other, but to the current day their only fight had been the first day they'd met, and no matter how much she wanted to keep it that way, Dora couldn't see a way out of the situation without her backing down or fighting back.

Put like that, there was only one option.

So she walked beside Tommy in silence, allowing him to led her to the Garrison - which was suspiciously noisy for this time of night. Dora didn't have time to care about why, or about Grace Burgess standing on a chair and singing her heart out in a pub where there had been no singing in years _(by unofficial order of the Peaky Blinders)_, or even about the soft look Tommy gave her when he saw her singing. All Dora gave a fuck about right now was trying to make the man leading her into the snug see that he needed to tell his family the truth, and put an end to the nightmare he was leading them into.

And the nightmare Dora was about to fight her way with him. Because arguing with Tommy was never anything less than a battle.

It wasn't going to be easy; she knew that as soon as the door to the snug was closed behind them and Tommy rounded on her by leaning down into her space, not even bothering to lower his voice now they were in private: "What the actual fuck were you thinking?"

Spine straightening - _because no-one was going to talk to her with that condescending tone: no-one_ \- Dora mirrored Tommy's step forwards and matched his anger by getting even angrier: "I was thinking that I am your friend, and whether you like it or not Thomas Shelby, I _will_ do what's best for you!"

"Really? And how is telling the family my secrets best for me, Dora? Tell me."

"Because Arthur got hurt, Tommy! And Arthur getting hurt, in a police station with our fucking coppers in it, maybe even _by our fucking coppers_, makes us look weak! Arthur should've known to be watching himself, but he didn't, because of you and your bloody secrets, and having him thrown at me bloody and moaning in front of all of fucking Small Heath makes him look weak, it makes me look unaware of what's going on, and it makes you look like you can't control your own backyard!" 

_I need to calm down - I need to be rational to convince Tommy to tell the truth, can't keep shouting..._

But Dora couldn't swallow her anger, not when she could see in his eyes that Tommy had realised that she was right, but Tommy being Tommy, she knew he wasn't going to admit that to her - just sneer down at her and change the subject: "It's not your fucking place to decide what I do and don't tell people!"

"Don't you dare tell me what my place is, Thomas Shelby! You went to war, and I made sure that when you came back everyone would still fear you, despite what that cost me." Dora snarled at him, barely stopping herself from hurling insults at him: "You don't get to push me out now."

"Actually, I think I do." Tommy snapped back: "You're not family, Theodora _Crawford_, you're just another Blinder. And if you don't toe the line, you're just as disposable as anyone else who disobeys me."

_Disposable? I'm fucking disposable to him!?_

_Just...just...just fuck him! Fuck Thomas Shelby!_

"Well if I''m just another one of your men, you won't fucking miss me, will you?" Dora hissed at Tommy, taking her cap off of her head and throwing it on the table before turning to walk out of the pub.

He didn't try to stop her.


	4. Lonely

Without being part of the Peaky Blinders, life was quiet for Dora.

It had been almost a month, and she was still struggling to adjust to life outside the gang. Clara’s husband Johnny, bless him, got her a job at the factory he worked for: which meant travelling a little further every morning and evening, but also meant there were far fewer stares and questions asked behind her back: something Dora very much appreciated, since she was getting enough of that back in Small Heath.

Everyone knew Dora and Tommy had been friends since they were both nine years old and Dora had moved to Small Heath. Nothing had ever come between them: not girls, not boys, not time, not even the fucking war had ever caused Tommy and Dora to fight. They were _ ‘just Tommy and Dora: had been forever’ _ , as Dora had heard from several of her mother’s old friends when they caught her at the grocer’s...and the baker’s…and the fish monger’s. It seemed anywhere she went there was someone who cared for her there to tell her to _ ‘swallow her pride and apologise’ _ to Tommy, _ ‘for the sake of the friendship’ _. It was ridiculous; she felt like she couldn’t leave the house without someone reminding her of what had happened...and the members of the Peaky Blinders were no better themselves; sending Dora a mixture of suspicious and suspicious looks whenever she was out of her house. It was bollocks. And it wasn’t even the worst of it.

Dora could deal with the old women giving her life advice. She could deal with strange looks from men that she’d thought thought well of her.

But she couldn’t deal with losing her family.

Loyal to the bone, Clara and Hattie had rallied round her the moment they’d heard that she’d had an argument with Tommy: but the Shelbys, people Dora had thought of as something of an adopted family, had completely cut ties with both her and her sisters. Worse than that, Dora had seen Polly physically restraining Finn from rushing over to Dora when she passed them in the street just yesterday, the older woman glaring darkly at her until Dora had left her line of sight.

What Tommy had told his family, Dora didn’t know...or care. It was clear to her now that he’d changed more than she’d realised, and if the man he’d changed into didn’t want her to challenge him when he was in the wrong, then so be it. Dora had too much pride to grovel.

She worked extra hours when they came up: spent plenty of time with Clara and Hattie and Clara's little girls: and took up fucking needlework - but she could forget how lonely she felt when her sisters went back to their lives and left Dora wondering quite what she was going to do with her life now that she wasn’t a Peaky Blinder anymore. She missed the Garrison, she missed the betting shop, she missed sitting around the kitchen table in the Shelby's house with a cup of tea, talking with people she had genuinely seen as family.

But they weren't her family. Not according to Tommy.

According to Tommy, Dora was just another one of his men.

Not family, not a friend, just another one of the many faces that did what Tommy told them to do. She didn't matter to him, not in the slightest - and she knew that because it had been over three weeks since she'd thrown her cap at him, and she hadn't even seen him since...and as much as that pained her, she was fucking grateful for it, too. Dora would forgive Tommy a lot (probably too much, if she was honest with herself), but she wouldn't forgive him for making her feel less than she was. Because she was fucking valuable, god dammit! There were men up and down the North of England who would love to have Dora by their side - _ and she knew that because they kept fucking bothering her the moment she stepped outside of Birmingham _ \- because of her brains, her ability to commit acts of violence without blinking, or because she was pretty enough when she bothered to scrub up, but it was Tommy she'd thrown her lot in with. She'd given him more than he'd ever asked her for: taken beatings, had to fight someone at her own mother's funeral when they'd talked shit about the Blinders, she'd given up the chance to be a fucking mother herself - and maybe that was all her fault; because after all, Tommy had never asked her to do any of that, but he'd never told her not to either. And Dora wouldn't let him say she was just another of the Peaky Blinders just because she dared to speak against him.

Although he'd never admit it, Dora knew that at the end of it all Tommy saw most of the Peaky Blinders as disposable. He'd mourn, if anything happened to them, but if he felt he had to then he'd sacrifice them without blinking. Maybe it was growing up in Small Heath, where they were all treated like that were disposable by someone or another, or maybe it was his father that had made him feel it was okay to treat people like that, or maybe it was the war - Dora knew that she'd never really know. But she did know that knowing Tommy saw her as disposable would kill her quicker than any situation he could ever put her in.

If that was how he felt about her, then Dora was glad the walked away.

Loving Tommy was one thing, but torturing herself was quite another, and no amount of love was going to turn her into a fool.

_ I am not, and will never be, my mother. _

So despite the constant tight sensation in Dora’s chest, she kept going - and she didn’t spare a glance for Tommy or any of his family when she saw them around Small Heath. She had her sisters, she had her pride, and she had the knowledge that no man would ever emotionally imprison her like her father had done to her mother. It might not be the life she had dreamed of for herself, but it was enough. And if it ever stopped being what she needed...there was a wide world outside Birmingham, and plenty of people who wouldn’t see her as disposable.

Of course, there were also plenty of people inside Birmingham who saw her as indisposable: just not for reasons Dora was that keen on.

And some of them had cornered her on the path along the canal.

The Lee family had decided Dora was an invaluable target to get to Tommy - as the leader of the small gang of Lees _ (Raz, she thought his name was) _ who had backed Dora up against the wall of a factory was telling her: “You see, he’s got his brothers watching out for us and him - but not you.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” Dora rolled her eyes; refusing to show fear and just waiting for a chance to go for the knife in her boot: “Tommy doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

Raz raised an eyebrow, turning the small rat-faced man beside him and raising an eyebrow at him: “That what you heard?”

Rat Face smirked and shook his head: “I heard Dora Crawford was the only person dead or alive that Tommy Shelby would take orders from.”

“Funny, I heard the same.” Raz nodded, before turning to look at the rest of his boys - giving chance the Dora to shift her weight in readiness: “Anyone else heard anything different?”

“Everyone’s saying they’ve fallen out, Raz.” the biggest of the group raised his hand, looking confused.

_ When will men learn that brawn isn't everything? _

Still, Dora pointed at the mountain of a man in recognition of his point: “That’s because we have.”

“Really? But you’ve been friends forever.” the mountain responded: seeming to forget that he and Dora were very much not here having a conversation and looking genuinely upset by the prospect of her and Tommy falling out.

“Will you shut up?” Raz snapped, apparently having not forgotten and not being upset, which was something of a shame: “I don’t give a flying fuck what she says - she’s a Peaky Blinder, and therefore is a fucking liar. Just grab her.”

Dora had her knife in her hand in a second, and was slashing out at Rat Face and his shifty-eyed friend the heartbeat they were within her reach.

Shifty Eyes dodged, but Rat Face wasn’t so lucky; the knife slashed across his face, and he stumbled back clutching the wound - a move Dora followed, stepping forwards to kick him in the balls, the force of which sending him the last step backwards into the Cut, wailing as he did so.

There was no time to gloat over the small _ (but satisfying) _ victory - a split-second later she had to duck, seeing the Human Mountain Range swing for her, and managed to sink her knife into Shifty Eyes when he tried to intercept her.

She almost made it past him, but the bastard had the nerve to stumble into her, giving Raz’s last friend with the scarred lip the chance to grab her around the throat. Dora tried to kick backwards, to get him to release her, but he saw the action coming and dodged, lifting her up until her feet were off the ground entirely and she was left clawing at his hands to try and force him to free her - all while her vision was starting to fade to grey at the edges. Raz laid into her a second later, a set of brass knuckles slamming into her kidneys and making the world white out from pain.

_ Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck… _

Raz didn’t stop at the kidney punch; Scar dropped Dora at Raz’s command, letting her fall to her knees.

Dora glared up at Raz, snarling as many swear words as she could before his fist connected with her face. The blow hit her cheek, and didn't hurt all that much (punches to the face never did) but it made her feel dizzy, so horrifically dizzy, as more and more of punches continued to connect with her cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

Then Raz’s friends got involved, and the punches moved down to her ribs and stomach...and the punches were joined by kicks...and that fucking hurt. Pain bloomed under her skin, each kick knocking the air from her lungs again and again, until it felt like she was drowning, the agony making her choke on every breath of air she tried to suck in, all while the Lee boys laughed at her.

“Not got your fucking cap now have you, you Peaky slag?”

“Got no friends when you need them, huh?”

“Where’s your precious Tommy Shelby, bitch?”

Dora tried to make a break for freedom, pushing through the pain in her chest and stomach to surge forwards to punch Raz in the jaw. It knocked him backwards, but his friends were quicker than Dora gave them credit for, and they tackled her to the ground before she could get more that a few feet away, before dragging her back to where Raz was straightening up - and spitting blood as he did so. Dora forced a laugh, just to piss him off, if it was the last thing she ever did.

Because it just might be.

She tried to hold out - tried to keep laughing and swearing at the Lees boys, to show them that she wasn't scared of them or their family, but eventually she had to stop to spit out the blood that was filling her mouth, and after that it was so hard to start shouting again. The air was getting harder and harder to pull into her lungs, and the pain was blurring her vision until she couldn’t even see where the next blow was coming from. Dora slumped down into the mud of the path, feeling the fight slipping away from her with each passing second...and cursing the Lees and the Shelbys with everything she had left in her.

_ If I live through this...I'm going to make Thomas Shelby fucking regret it... _


	5. Aftermath

Dora was awoken in the middle of the night again - only this time she knew it was the sound of someone knocking on the front door.

Laying as still as she could manage on her sofa to avoid jarring any of her injuries, Dora hoped that if she stayed still and silent then whoever was at the door would just go away. Crawling back home after the Lee boys had left her half-dead in the mud by the canal hadn't exactly put her in the right mood to entertain guests. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd slumped onto her sofa, but from the lack of light coming in through the window she could tell it wasn't a reasonable time for anyone to be calling on her - and the only person who _would_ call on her at this hour currently wasn't speaking to her, so it wasn't going to be him. It really didn't give her much incentive to get up and answer the door; if it was so important, then they could come back tomorrow, when Dora didn't feel like shit.

Or was dead.

Whichever the case may be - Dora didn't much care, if she was honest; she just wanted the jagged pain in her ribs to stop, and didn't much care if she was healed by time or just woke up in hell the next time she opened her eyes. She closed her eyes again, hoping that that would be the end of it...only for there to be another round of knocking at the door.

"Dora...Dora, open up. I know you're in there."

_Whatever happened to not speaking to me?_

Dora fought the urge to groan - but remembered her plan to stay still and silent.

Why Tommy was at her door, Dora didn't know. He hadn't spoken to her in almost a month - and it didn't exactly sound like he'd had another nightmare, so she didn't know why in God's name he had chosen the middle of the night to come and find her...and right now she didn't really care. Two weeks ago, her stomach would have fluttered and her heart would start pattering, like some idiot girl with a crush, but not now. Not after over three weeks of him exiling her for no good fucking reason, and not after the beating she took from the Lees, _for him_, despite that fucking exile. If Dora saw Tommy now, there would be no stomach fluttering or heart pattering: she'd probably just punch him in the face.

At least she'd try to, if even breathing didn't cause her ribs to burn, and if she didn't get dizzy at the mere thought of standing up. Walking to the door sounded like an unnecessary battle just to try and throw a punch that Tommy would probably dodge anyway. He didn't deserve the effort it would cost her.

Which was what made it really annoying that he wouldn't just _go away_: "Dora, please - open the door for me."

_Just. Fuck. Off._

But as much as Dora wished that Tommy would let it go, he kept knocking - and Dora knew if she didn't at least acknowledge him then he'd only try and get in by picking the lock on the back door, and that wouldn't end well for her, so despite her reluctance she rolled off the sofa and limped over to the door...although she refused to open it: "What in God's name do you want at this hour, Thomas?"

"I need to talk to you - and not through a door." Tommy responded: "Please, Dora, just open the door."

Dora couldn't think of anything she wanted to do less...but she also couldn't think of a way out of it. 

Tommy wouldn't talk to her through the door, he wouldn't leave until he'd said what he had to say, but he would likely pick a lock to get in. Her best bet was to try and control the situation by taking charge of it now. Plus, if she spoke to him in the dark then he wouldn't see the bruises on her face, and she could get the conversation over and done with and get him out of her house before word of what the Lees had done reached him.

So, she opened the door and let Tommy bustle past her, shutting the door behind him and letting the shadows from the dim moonlight coming in through the curtains hide her while Tommy paced in front of the sofa.

"Well, talk."

"I want you to kick me in the shins."

"You want me to what?" Dora asked, the amount of pain she was in making her think that she must've misheard him.

But as she leant against the solid wood of the door, she realised that apparently she hadn't misheard him: "I want you to kick me in the shins."

Dora sighed - she was too tired and in too much pain to have this conversation right now, but the whole reason she was in this situation was because she knew Tommy was going to leave until he was done: and that was unlikely to just be after she kicked him: "Why?"

"Because I deserve it, and because it's what you do when one of us upsets you."

"Tommy, I'm too tired for this right now." Dora told him, exhaling sharply when the stabbing pain in her hip returned with a vengeance.

Clearly, Tommy realised he was missing something in the dark, and swept deeper into the room to light the lamp on Dora's mantelpiece. She knew she should stop him - if he saw her in her current state, then he'd ask questions, and she felt even less ready to talk about what had happened with the Lees than she was about why he wanted to be kicked in the shins.

Before she could get him to put the matches away, though, he'd already pulled one out and lit it, and was now holding holding it up to the lamp. She was about to tell him that to just leave, but it was too late. The lamp was lit and back on the mantle place, sending out enough light to fill the room and expose Dora's injuries. Stupid fucking thing.

Satisfied that the room was well enough lit, Tommy turned to see her standing by the door...and promptly lost his shit:

He rushed over to her, hands reaching out for her, only to drop them when she flinched back against the door: "Dora...Dora, what happened to you?"

"Fucking Lee family, what do you think happened?" she rolled her eyes: "They aren’t too happy with you at the moment, Tommy boy."

“Well they can get in fucking line.” Tommy muttered, gently reaching up to cup her chin and tilting her head this way and that to check her pupils: “What hurts the worst?”

“Ribs.” Dora responded, seeing no point in fighting Tommy on this: “Might be fractured or something. Dunno.”

“You called for Clara?” Tommy asked, hand dropping to where her shirt was untucked from her trousers to check Dora just as he would've for one of his brothers, before obviously realising that he couldn't just pull her shirt off like he would for one of them.

Especially as Dora knew she'd kick him in more than just the shins if he tried it: "Been sleeping it off. I'll go and see her tomorrow."

Tommy ignored her dismissive tone, sweeping her right off of her feet and carrying her to the sofa before disappearing upstairs. Dora knew she should argue with him, or at least ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but the pain had already taken a lot out of her, and all being back on the sofa was doing for her was making her feel like going back to sleep. She almost did drop off again, eyes sliding shut just as Tommy clomped down the stairs of a fucking cart horse.

Dora opened her eyes to glare at him, raising an eyebrow at the bundle of her clothes under his arm and the uncomfortable look on his face which absolutely meant that somewhere in that bundle was some of her underwear, only to have that bundle of clothing dropped in her lap so that she could be picked back up again, all before she could manage to say a word.

_Well then._

"I'm going to send Finn to get Clara to come to ours' - you can wait there and Pol can take a look at you until Clara can get there."

Dora was already shaking her head - grabbing the door frame with all her might to stop him carrying her out into the street: "No. I can wait until morning and take myself to see my sister then. Don't need you taking me anywhere to wait of for Finn to wake Clara at this hour."

"I think Clara would rather be woken; have you seen yourself?"

"Strangely enough I haven't; I've not been too concerned with getting in front of a mirror since I got home from getting my head kicked in." she responded acerbically, using her grip on the door frame to pull herself - and Tommy - further back into her house: "Now put me down."

Tommy fucking growled, making Dora raise an eyebrow, but he was resolute: "Will you stop fighting me on this and not cause yourself any more damage?"

"Only reason I'm hanging onto this door frame is because of you. Let me go back to the sofa and I'll stop having to fight you, won't I?"

"Fucking hell Theodora!" Tommy finally snapped, the rare show of his temper and the use of her full name shocking her into losing her grip: "Stop arguing and let me fucking help!"

They might have been out of the house, since Tommy had swept her out as soon as she'd let go of her grip on the doorway, but Dora had no intention of going quietly, shouting furiously: "Well, I want your help about as much as you seem to want mine, so fucking put me down right now!"

"I'll put you down in my fucking kitchen or I won't put you down at all!" Tommy shouted back at her, storming into the Shelby's house and probably waking everyone up as he did so.

Well, if he didn't care, then neither did Dora: "Don't be fucking ridiculous, you prick - and watch my fucking head, are you trying to give me a bloody concussion?"

Tommy didn't respond after almost smacking her head off the wall of his living room, but he was more careful as he carried her through to the kitchen, even if he was shouting for Finn and Polly as he did so.

The pair of them appeared in the kitchen second later, walking in to find Dora back on her feet and bracing herself with her hands on the kitchen table and Tommy mirroring her position on the other side of the table, between her and the door. Dora knew he hadn't trusted her not to bolt - and hated him for being able to predict her actions so well. She just wanted to sleep off the pain in her own house; she didn't feel up to facing the Shelbys right now. It was strange, she'd never felt vulnerable around them, because she'd never thought of them as people who would hurt her, but now she felt naked and exposed, and she didn't like it one bit. For the first time, she felt panic at the feeling of Polly and Tommy's eyes on her, both as intense as the other's despite the difference in colour, and it made her want to run. If she was steadier on her feet, she probably would have.

It was Finn who broke the tension in the room, dodging out from behind Polly to run to Dora and fling is arms around her hips, almost knocking her over in the process. Tommy moved as if to drag Finn away, but Dora waved him off, having missed the ten year old _('I'm nearly eleven, you know!')_ deeply, and a little happy that at least one of them were happy to see her - even if Finn's affectionate squeeze left tears in her eyes. She hugged him back tightly, before gently pushing him away - and as soon as he saw the bruises, he jerked back like he'd been burned.

"Dora! What happened?"

Tommy answered before Dora could tell him not to worry, making her want to roll her eyes at his amateur-dramatics - the deep frown and panicked eyes: "Dora's been hurt badly, Finn, she needs her sister to come and look at her. Can you run to Clara's and get her?"

"Of course!" Finn exclaimed, already running out the door.

Dora waited for him to be out of earshot, before rounding on Tommy again: "What are you worrying him for? I fucking told you that I'm fine!"

Polly was far less concerned than Finn when she interrupted her nephew, her voice cool and calm: "Where are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Polly," Dora snapped at the older woman, not liking her clinical tone one bit: "I just need some rest."

Of course, Tommy choose that moment to pipe up again: "You said you had fractured ribs."

"_Would you fuck off you interfering piece of shit!_"

"As you can see," Tommy looked at Polly, his tone laden with sarcasm: "She's absolutely _fine_."

Dora threw a chair at him. She ended up crouched on the floor, arms wrapped around her ribs and head between her knees, but she threw a chair, and Tommy had had to dive to avoid getting hit in the head with it.

So she didn't regret it for a second.


	6. Hurt

The night was bad.

Clara had wrapped Dora's ribs, but there would be no painkillers for her unless she went to the hospital - which was very much not option at that hour - so Polly forced some tea down Dora's throat and Tommy carried her up to bed: which was the last thing Dora remembered with any sort of clarity. As soon as her eyes closed, she was lost in a haze of lurid nightmares that somehow ended up with her in a canal where the water had been replaced with blood: blood that she was drowning in while the Shelbys watched from the path above her, Tommy's eyes glowing such a blue so bright that it consumed Dora, until she fell into it, finding herself under a sky of the exact same shade, watching Arthur and John and four other faceless men lower her coffin into the grave that had once held the guns from the BSA: guns that were currently strewn amongst the gravestones, plain for Grace Burgess to wander around and catalogue on a list that she then handed over to Inspector Campbell.

Dora woke up after that, breathless and heart pounding, only to find herself alone in Tommy's room. Everything seemed too bright, just like the dreams, resulting in Dora pinching herself just to make sure that she was awake, but the burning sting on her forearm and a a glance at the clock that told her the reason it was so bright was because it was the middle of the day finally let her relax into the knowledge that she was actually awake and no longer dreaming.

She'd much rather deal with the ache in her torso - already considerably better than it had been last night - than the nightmares. But either way there was no use wallowing in bed, so after a deep breath to brace herself, she pulled herself up and wobbled over to where someone had left her bundle of clothes on the desk.

Fifteen minutes later she was full dressed and downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table with a strong cup of tea, waiting for Polly to sit opposite down her.

The older woman hadn't said a word to her yet - just waited for her in front of door and directing her into the kitchen instead of letting her leave, but Dora was well aware or many of Polly's idiosyncrasies, and given the cold air around her Dora had to remind herself that she also knew about a lot of her intimidation tactics, but foremost in Dora's mind was that she wouldn't know what this silence was until Polly decided to let her know. And she wouldn't be rushed, so Dora sat back and sipped her tea calmly, refusing to be worried by Polly's silence.

"You seem to be rather happy with yourself, now Tommy's accepted you back into the fold." Polly finally sat down, looking at Dora with a blank expression that Dora had never seen directed at her before.

_So intimidation it is, then._

Sadly unsurprised that this was going the way it was - _Polly had been fully on board with Tommy exiling Dora, after all_ \- Dora looked back with the same impassiveness Polly was wearing: "He tell you why I left?"

"He told me he pushed you out for not doing as you're told."

"Guess I don't have the benefit of being blood." Dora shrugged, her hard-won indifference to the situation allowing her to shrug off the half-truth - because, at this point, what had she been expecting from Tommy? "But that doesn't mean I'm just another one of the men."

Polly raised an eyebrow: "Oh, aren't you? I think you need to think about getting ideas above your station, Theodora?"

"I've earned my station in this enterprise." Dora raised her own eyebrow, and dropped a hand to her abdomen. Polly blanched, knowing full well what Dora was implying, but Dora carried on regardless: "And no-one had better forget it...especially you. You were there, after all."

Fiercely loyal, if not to Dora, Polly didn't let the allusion to Dora's 'accident' go unchallenged: "If you really loved that boy, you wouldn't hold him responsible for that."

"Maybe I don't love him anymore."

Polly looked as of Dora had slapped her - and Dora wasn't surprised.

It had been one of life's simple truths for the Shelbys, hadn't it? Fire was hot, water was wet, and little Theodora Crawford was blindly in love with their Tommy. But the past few months had revealed some truths to Dora that she had never seen before.

The fact that Tommy wasn't in love with her was nothing new to her - but his lack of trust in her? The lack of regard he had for her? She was supposed to be his friend, and he saw her as fucking disposable. And it was more than that! He came to her at night when the sound of the shovelling got too loud, but he didn't look at her in the light. He asked her to cover for his lies, but didn't let him in on his plans ahead of that asking her to lie along with him. And he'd taken away half of people who she'd thought cared about her.

It had been hard for her to get around at first, but now Dora was seeing things with clearer eyes.

Some part of her, deep down in her heart, might always love Tommy. When he was warm, he was everything any woman could ever want; tender and sweet, quick to tease and even quicker to laugh...but Tommy was rarely warm these days. Maybe it was the war, maybe it was the nightmares, maybe it was taking on more and more of this business of his, but whatever the reason was it left Tommy colder and colder with each passing day, and Dora didn't know if the part of her heart that would always belong to him would be enough to keep her in his orbit. Every day without him had hurt, had left a hollow feeling inside her chest, but each day had been a little easier. That hollow feeling had been slightly less empty. It had hurt a little less to be on her own.

And now Dora didn't know if she wanted to be pulled back into Tommy's inner circle, knowing that she would likely fall for him all over again, and live in fear of finding herself feeling that painful hollowness again if he ever decided to exile her again. She wondered if a clean break was better. She didn't know if she should stay and see what Polly and Tommy had to say to her, or if she should just leave now and never look back.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as just getting up and leaving, though: because Polly clearly wasn't done with this conversation: "Don't play games with me, Theodora."

"I'm not playing games. I've seen what clinging to a man who sees you as replaceable does to a woman, and I have to interest of letting it happen to me." Dora looked the other woman directly in the eye: "I know what I'm worth, Polly. And it's more than this."

Polly didn't seem to know what to say to Dora in response to that - and Dora was a tiny bit pleased about that, even if that was a little petty, but she didn't get much time to enjoy her little victory; Arthur and John slammed into the kitchen a second later, eyes scanning the room. John saw Dora first, and crossed the room in the blink of an eye to crouch next to her: "Finn said you got hurt?"

"Three fractured ribs, sprained wrist, a black eye, and more bruises than skin." Polly reported to her nephews, all too eager to change the subject, it seemed.

Dora let her, simply shrugging: "I've had worse."

John laughed, but his hug was gentle when it came, a faint squeeze before he moved away to make himself some tea. Even Arthur, who was not known for being considerate about injuries, left his arm on the back of her chair when he took a seat next to her, rather than on her shoulders like normal.

It was exactly what Dora didn't want.

This kind of treatment was just the sort of thing that would suck her back into the way things had been - and Dora didn't know if she wanted to go down that path yet. But Arthur and John wanted to pretend everything was normal, and Polly was going along with it, leaving Dora no choice but to sit there and smile through their explanations of what had happened over the three weeks she'd been 'away'. And it had been a busy time for the family.

Ada was pregnant by Freddie, was keeping the baby, and the pair of them had gotten married. Arthur now owned the Garrison so the family had a legitimate business in their name. John wanted to marry Lizzie Stark - _Dora sent him a surprised look at learning about that_ \- but his brothers had convinced him to wait. And the Blinders were on good terms with Billy Kimber and his boys because they'd helped him get his money back from the Lees at Cheltenham races. There was no mention of Inspector Campbell, Grace Burgess _(even though Dora knew she had gone to the races with the boys and was still working at the Garrison)_, or the guns from the BSA, and Dora didn't ask about any of it. She sat at the table and made polite conversation with the other three, waiting for a chance to make her escape.

" - all we've got left is to sort of the Lees," Arthur nodded to Dora: "Now more than ever."

Dora shook her head: "The Lees are small time. If Tommy thinks he can trust Kimber, he's blind."

John grumbled, swirling his tea around in his cup: "He might just be that anyway. Involving that fuckin' barmaid - bloody working with her now."

"Now, John boy, Grace is a nice girl...probably." Arthur shook his head: "And Tommy don't trust her any more than the rest of us do."

Dora didn't know if she believed that, but she glossed over the subject to get back to Kimber: "Every single gang Kimber's ever worked with somehow ends up getting dissolved into the larger group of his boys. Their leaders have accidents, go missing, or he outright shoots them on some trumped up accusation that no-one can provide any evidence for."

"I've heard the same things." Polly agreed: "But I get the sense Tommy's got more planned than just allowing Kimber to fuck us over like he has everyone else."

John and Arthur agreed with her, and Dora silently wished that she had the same confidence in Tommy that they did.

Luckily, their agreement seemed to signal the end of the conversation, and the men left after downing what was left of their tea, laughing that they had work to do. Arthur slapped her on the back - so carefully light to avoid aggravating her ribs - telling her stop by the Garrison if she ever wanted a drink, while John told her he'd see her at work soon. But although she smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, Dora didn't promise either of them anything.

They wouldn't cross Tommy for her - they'd proved they wouldn't - and she wouldn't expect them to. So if Tommy changed his mind about her being accepting back into the fold, or whatever this actually was, then all the promises in the world wouldn't mean anything. She'd be out in the cold again, not welcome anywhere any of the Shelby brothers were.

Making promises otherwise would just be too painful.

"Dora, pushing you out hurt Tommy something fierce." Polly suddenly announced, breaking Dora's chain of thought and making her focus on the older woman: "_You_ hurt Tommy something fierce. And although you might be almost family to me, he _is_ family, and I will never side with you over him."

"You've made that very clear." Dora replied calmly: "But I can't be responsible for Tommy's choices. Him pushing me out, and whatever pain that may have caused him, isn't on my head."

Polly raised an eyebrow in surprise: "You don't think it hurt him not to see you?"

"I don't."

The other woman looked like she had more to say, but all of a sudden the doors to the betting shop burst open. Men poured in - one of whom wore a very distinctive scar from Dora's knife. He stopped and stared when he saw Dora sitting at the kitchen table, along with all the other Lee boys: who had clearly been expecting to find an empty house.

Still, Dora wouldn't say she was sorry to see the men who'd left her in a heap in the mud. In fact, they were just the distraction she needed to stop Polly having this conversation with her, so all she did when the Lees looked at each other was smile. And pulled the knife out from her boot.

"Hello again, Rat Face. How's your face?"


	7. Bang

Dora woke up in the street outside the betting shop, Polly leaning over her and dabbing at what felt like a split lip with her handkerchief: "What has gotten into you, you bloody stupid girl?"

"I felt like a fight." was the only explanation Dora felt like giving her, sitting upright and forcing Polly to give her some space: "What happened after they knocked me out?"

Polly frowned at Dora's short explanation and her change of subject, but she answered all the same: "One of the Lees carried you out here, and stayed on the door to make sure I didn't try anything as stupid as you did. They left about five minutes ago, just after I sent Finn to get Tommy and the boys."

"You should've gone while I punched Rat Face and Big Nose." Dora cracked her neck, wincing at the pain, and then getting to her feet: "Would've saved time."

"I wasn't going to leave you alone with them, was I?"

"I'd've been fine - I _am_ fine. So there's no need to go mentioning this to the boys."

"Mention what?" Polly raised an eyebrow, before leading Dora back into the house to assess the damage the Lees had done.

Secretly - or at least she'd never admit it - Dora understood why Polly had been so shocked at Dora's willingness to get into a fight she had no chance of winning. That was always John and Arthur's thing, maybe Ada's if she felt stubborn enough, occasionally even Tommy's, but _never_ Dora's. Except for when the boys were in France, Dora never approached a fight directly; she always looked for a way to blindside someone and do all the damage she needed before the other person ever even knew they were in a fight. She'd cut brake wires, she'd set fire to businesses, she'd even gone so far as to shoot someone in the back, but she'd never gotten into a fistfight where she was outnumbered like she had half an hour ago in the betting shop. It simply wasn't her way of doing things.

But Dora was tired of the way she'd been doing things. She'd been doing things the same way for the past twenty years, since she was ten, and look what it had gotten her? In love with a man who couldn't give a toss, bruised to shit from being targeted by his enemies, and wondering where she stood in the lives of people she'd known since she was a child. Her way of doing things wasn't working for her anymore...and so she was going to change them. Not so drastically as to be getting into fights she couldn't win on a daily basis or anything, but somehow. Something had to change, for the sake of her own sanity.

And if Polly - or anyone else - didn't like that...then they could get fucked.

Dora was living on her own terms now.

However, before she made the first decision about what she was going to change - _namely: was she going to stay a member of the Peaky Blinders, if that option was even on the table for her_ \- she had to help Polly clean up. Maybe the older woman didn't like her anymore, maybe Dora had somehow slighted Polly in some way she hadn't realised, but Dora wasn't a complete cow. Polly had, up until the last month, never failed to help here when she needed it - so she wasn't going to skip out now and leave her to the mess the Lees had made. Of course, the boys coming back made it more difficult, with Arthur taking one look at her newly split lip and trying to force her to sit down so he could get her a whiskey while Tommy fucking ignored her _(in love with a man who couldn't give a toss indeed)_ to root around in the office and Polly explained what happened, but with them back Dora saw her opportunity to slip out the door while everyone was distracted by Tommy coming back into the room, holding up some wire cutters of all things.

Good time to go, I think.

Especially when Tommy started explaining why the Lees had left wire cutters behind: "I think are friends are playing a little game."

When she tried to get up, though, Arthur immediately pushed her back into the chair, looking tenser than she'd seen him in a long time: "Nobody move."

"What game?" Polly asked, ignoring Arthur to walk across the room - only to be stopped by John.

John, who was just as tense as Arthur: "Aunt Pol, don't! Touch. Anything."

"Erasmus Lee was in France." Tommy explained, just as tense as Arthur and John, an starting to scan the room for something Dora couldn't even think of: "Whenever we gave up ground to the Germans, we'd leave behind traps, set up with wires...and we'd leave wire cutters, as part of the joke."

"Somewhere in here," John continued, always starting to sweep the room with his eyes just like Tommy was: "is a hand grenade attached to a wire, set to go off."

Dora paused...but then shook her head: "How long would a hand grenade last before blowing? Because me and Polly have been clearing stuff away for almost fifteen minutes...if it was in here, it would've blown by now."

Slowly, Tommy nodded: "It's not in here. Can't be. It was my name on that bullet Erasmus Lee sent. He's set up a trap alright...but he's set it up just for me."

The men slowly looked like they were digesting the idea, but Dora's mind was already working at a million miles and hour. A threat to the Shelbys - even just Thomas - was a threat to those around them, and that meant her sisters. The Lees might only be targeting Tommy, but that didn't mean the rest of them were safe; anyone could get hurt if they left it in the Garrison, or upstairs, or - 

_The fucking car! Shit!_

Dora took off at a run, flying out the betting shop and towards where Tommy kept his car.

The Lees wanted to hurt Tommy, not anyone else (not as much, at least) and the most certain way to get to him? Putting the trap in his car. His car, where Finn often played when Polly sent him away from the house, as Dora was certain she must have when she realised how much cleaning up there was to be done. She wouldn't have wanted Finn to be under their feet or overhear the conversation about the Lees: and whenever Finn was sent away from the 'grown-up stuff', he was all the more likely to go and play in the car - something Dora knew for a fact, because he'd told her when she'd caught him there one night, long after he should've been in bed. She'd bet he was there now. And if he was...

...It didn't bear thinking about.

Pelting through the street as fast as she could, Dora ignored all the shouts asking here where she was going - because Tommy was right next to her, having clearly worked out the same thing she had about the car, and knowing about Finn's habits just as much. The pair of them ducked through the crowded streets neck and neck - with Dora rounding the corner to see Finn playing at the wheel of the car just seconds before Tommy shouted out to him.

Dora didn't stop moving, knowing Finn wouldn't listen to being told to stay still. The boy had never followed any instructions in his life, not without Polly threatening to clip him round the ear. Tommy tried to tell him to climb out the same way he got in...but Dora saw Finn's little hand reach for the door, and it was like suddenly the world was moving through fucking tar.

Tommy was too far away, wouldn't make it to grab Finn or the grenade, and Dora had no fucking clue where the Lees would set their trap...so Dora did the only thing she could. She grabbed Finn, and swung so that her body was between him and the explosion that followed four seconds later.

She hit the ground, trying to shield as much of Finn as she could, even as heat seared across her back. Her ears rung, deafening her to anything happening around, but she could feel Finn crying against her shoulder so she held him tighter with one arm and tried to push herself up with the other, to get him some help. The adrenaline was fading, though, and she stumbled until hands caught her by the shoulders and dragged her and Finn away from the burning wreckage of the car. Even with her vision blurring at the edges, Dora could see Tommy talking as Polly and Arthur and John rounded the corner, but the ringing stopped the words from making it to her brain.

Finn was passed over to Polly to check over, before all of a sudden Dora found herself wrapped up in Tommy's arms, pressed tightly against his chest as the ringing in her ears started to fade: "...-ank God yo-....-ght, thank Go-...thank God you're alright, thank God you're alright, thank God you're alright..."

The mantra didn't stop, Tommy muttering words against her hair in a litany that never ended, while he held her as tight as he could. It was tempting - _so tempting_ \- to just let him hold her and fall asleep; the adrenaline was completely gone now, and she'd been tired since waking up from fighting the Lees, now she just felt woozy and weak on her feet...but she couldn't rest just yet.

Dora looked over to where Polly was Finn, trying to form the words to ask if he was alright, only to see Polly and Arthur staring at her in horror, while John hurried Finn away, glancing over his shoulder at her with the same horror as the others. Even Tommy had stopped his whispering, had gone tense against her just like he did when he was having a nightmare. Dora panicked, thinking that something must've happened to Finn - _please, God, please don't let it be too serious_ \- and tried to pull away to go after John, only to stumble over her first step.

"Dora, you need to stop. You need to stop, you hear me?" Polly demanded, something far too close to fear in her voice for Dora to be comfortable with.

"Finn - " she protested, only to fall back against Tommy when she stumbled again, a sharp pain shooting through her back at the contact.

Polly was shaking her head again...but honestly it was getting hard to see, with the world suddenly starting to lose it's defined edges in Dora's eyes: "Finn's fine; you got him out of the car and on the ground before he got hurt."

"Your back..." Arthur breathed, reaching out to help Tommy support some of her weight.

"Your back took the worst of it." Polly told Dora, reaching up to cup Dora's face and force her to look at her: "Dora, you're bleeding. Heavily. Between that, the Lees this morning, and the injuries from a few days ago, I don't think you're going to want to be awake much longer."

"...Feel light headed..." Dora moaned.

_"Somebody get a fucking car here, now!"_ Arthur roared, but Polly kept Dora's face pointed towards her.

"I know you do, but Dora, you have to stay awake for as long as you can. Stay awake." Polly slapped her cheek, the jolt of pain bring Dora back some alertness, enough to feel that her back felt strangely warm, but it faded quickly, much to Polly's dismay: "Stay awake!"

Dora tried: she really did. She tried to stay awake as Tommy and Polly got her in the car, but the last thing she remembered was Arthur getting into the front seat and starting the engine. Everything was sore, and she felt so dizzy, all she wanted was to close her eyes for a little bit; the brightness and soft, fuzzy edges were starting to make her head hurt. So even though Polly and Tommy were trying to talk to her, Dora ignored them. She was just going to rest her eyes for a little while, just until everything was less sore.

It was only for a little bit.


	8. Apologies

This time when Dora woke up, it was in a room she didn’t recognise.

The room was cool, with evening sunlight filtering in through windows high up in the tiled wall behind her bed, and the smell of starch and soap filling the air.

Dora knew it was a hospital without even thinking about it - even without the tiled walls and white sheets, hospitals were unmistakable places, with the smell of starch and the cool, slightly damp air surrounding her in equal measures something that she had only experienced in hospital rooms, but for a few peaceful moments she couldn’t remember how she ended up in here for the life of her. It was all just a blank space in her memory - with the last thing she remembered was sitting in the betting shop with Polly drinking tea...but then the door to her room burst open to reveal Hattie and Clara rushing in _(Clara not even in her nurse's uniform)_, and all of a sudden it all came back to Dora.

_ ...Fighting the Lees, getting knocked out for a few minutes while they turned over the office, cleaning the office only to learn about the grenade, finding the grenade in Tommy's car, getting Finn out of the car, the world turning fuzzy as her back started to feel like it was burning... _

While Dora tried to get her memories in a row, her sisters shouted over each other to scold her - _ Do you know how lucky you are? We were so worried! The doctors barely managed to stitch the wounds in time! Why do have new bruises on your face when your back was to the explosion? _ \- before Dora had enough of being told off and forced herself to sit up and take control of the situation. Or at least stop her sisters from trying to talk over one another, so she could have maybe half a chance of understanding what was being said to her. Clara tried to fuss about Dora sitting up, but stopped when Dora waved her away.

But Hattie wasn't done letting Dora know that she'd fucked up, looking at Dora with watery eyes: “I thought you weren’t going to wake up, you bitch.”

Dora swallowed her own tears that wanted to fall at the fact she'd made Hattie wanted to cry, and pulled her youngest sister into a hug to stop herself from setting them both off: “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

“Then you need to be more careful.” Clara remarked crossly - but Dora could see the fear in her eyes.

More so than Hattie, Dora knew that Clara would’ve known _exactly_ how close to the edge Dora had come. The doctors would’ve told her everything - and if they hadn’t, she would’ve read Dora’s medical notes the second they became available to the nurses. Either way, Clara knew Dora had been minutes away from bleeding out in the backseat of a car, mere minutes away from never waking up again…she’d been scared. She'd been scared, and Dora hadn't been around to help her.

So Dora did the only thing she could now she was awake again, and pulled Clara into the hug as well.

The three sisters held on to each other tightly. There was no point in saying anything; what was there to say after nearly dying for a family that had abandoned her for a month? The only thing Dora could do was hold onto her sisters and silently hope that this kind of situation would never happen again, even if she didn't dare to promise anything.

When Polly and Tommy walked into the room behind her sisters, though, Dora guessed that she had been right not to make any promises.

Hattie and Clara turned on the Shelbys present, flanking Dora's bedside and glaring. From Hattie, such behaviour was par for the course for anyone who'd even slightly irritated her, but Dora had never seen Clara look at anyone with so much venom before. Even Polly wouldn't look Clara in the eye, and Tommy was looking anywhere except at Clara. Dora had never seen anything like it...and she couldn't deny enjoying it just a little. Polly and Tommy deserved to be glared at, and they deserved to be uncomfortable, and they deserved to feel guilty about what had happened to Dora. She'd gotten hurt protecting Finn, even after Tommy called her disposable, even after the family left her out in the cold, and even after Polly had chewed her out for Tommy's supposed pain. So she was more than happy to let Clara make Polly and Tommy squirm...at least until the feeling faded under a sudden wave of tiredness.

All she wanted was for this to be over. For the Shelbys to say whatever they had to say and get out - Dora had realised that being around them was bad for her, both mentally and now physically. For any chance at a normal life, she needed to get them out of her life...no matter how much that idea made her chest hurt.

"Could you give me a minute with Tommy and Polly, please?" Dora asked her sisters softly. They looked reluctant, but left without arguing - although Clara didn't stop glaring until she slammed the door shut behind her and Hattie on the way out.

Polly raised an eyebrow: "I don't think I've ever seen Clara slam a door."

"I think her older sister ending up in a hospital bed may have upset her." Dora raised her own eyebrow back at Polly: "How strange."

Polly didn't have a response to that, but she did have the good grace to look at the floor for a few seconds, before following Hattie and Clara out of the room.

Not that seeing Polly leave without a word made Dora any less apprehensive about the situation.

Seeing Polly, a woman who had never, ever backed down from someone either physically or verbally, do just that, because Dora hadn't bitten her tongue, was almost as unsettling as Tommy's uneasy look. Honestly, Dora didn't know what to make of it; it was like a sign of the fucking end of days - God only knew what was going to happen next.

"I wanted to talk to you, Dora." Tommy announced, clearly hoping to get this visit back on track: "I was hoping to talk to you at the house, but...today didn't exactly go as planned."

Dora justed hummed an acknowledgement, but didn't say anything.

What was there to say to that? _'Sorry I tried to stop the Lees from turning the betting shop over?'_ Obviously not.

But despite Dora's lack of response, Tommy kept speaking: "I'm sorry. Dora, I'm so sorry - for implying that you were in any way replaceable, for taking out my frustration at Campbell and the guns on you, for not telling you what I have planned, and for letting you get hurt by the Lees not once, but three times now, because of my fight with them...I'm just sorry for everything I've done over the last month that's caused you to end up here."

...Even with the impending end of life as they knew it, Dora still wasn't expecting that.

Tommy never apologised. Not to her, not to his brothers, not to anyone. Even when he'd occasionally gone to far when they were young - like the time he'd pulled her hair so hard that she'd cried silently for ten minutes - the only way he'd ever made up for it was by not retaliating when she got him back. In fairness, Dora wasn't all that much better; she seldom apologised to Tommy, because if she'd ever wronged him, then had been made up for with actions. Both of them agreed that that was the way to do it: actions spoke louder than words, and so it was with actions that silent apologies were made.

Dora didn't think she'd ever heard Tommy verbalise an apology before - and it unsettled her more than Polly's quiet departure. Because it had to be leading to something worse.

Neither of them would treat her so delicately, even in her current bed bound state, unless they had bad news for her. Dora didn't even know how long she'd been asleep, so it could be anything! Someone could have died - Finn could have died. And the longer she stared at Tommy in shock, and he stared back waiting for a response, the more her stomach knotted in fear of what she was about hear.

"It's happened." she finally responded: "There's no point thinking about what's done."

Tommy looked pained, twisting his cap in his hands - nearly nicking his fingers in the process: "You don't forgive me, then?"

Dora paused. There were two ways to answer that question: lie, get this conversation over with, and let the wounds fester, or tell him the truth and hope that maybe she wasn't burning what was left of their friendship to the ground: "Your words are nice, Tommy, but neither of us has ever put much stock in just words."

"We haven't." Tommy swallowed: "And so I don't know what to do next - because I have no idea what I can do to prove to you that I _am_ sorry."

Silence stretched out between them, uncomfortable in a way that it had never been. Dora couldn't remember the last time it had ever been awkward between her and Tommy; even in the aftermath of the fumbling kiss they'd shared when they were fourteen, when she'd fallen in love with him and he'd broken her heart by pulling a face and declaring the kiss weird, hadn't felt like this, like glass shards digging into her flesh.

Dora knew how to take what she could get, and how to make the most of not all that much. She'd been dressed in family hand-me-downs until she had gotten a job to pay for her own clothes, she'd learned to take what lessons she could from a mother that was too busy pining after an absentee husband to raise her children to make sure Hattie and Clara were raised as properly as possible, and she could make more meals out of last night's scraps than was comfortable to acknowledge. She'd learned to hide the love she had to Tommy behind sisterly affection and friendly banter, and she had never allowed that love to hold her back. If Dora wanted a man, she got a man, and she kept them around until it got too serious or until she was done. The fact that she'd loved Tommy was something she rarely acknowledged even to herself - and certainly never had done to anyone else, not before she'd suggested to Polly that she no longer did. She'd always taken what brotherly love he'd had for her (and he had had that in spades at one point) and use it to tide her over when things got dark inside her head.

And it had gotten her here: laying in a hospital bed, enduring an awkward silence with a man that she was usually so comfortable around, not knowing what to do or say. She _hated_ it...but she didn't know what to do. The only saving grace?

Tommy seemed to have no idea either.

And when Tommy didn't know what to do, Dora took the lead: "I'm not angry about the explosion, or the fights I had with the Lees. That's on the Lees and no-one else, no matter what their reasoning was."

"But you are angry about me pushing you away?"

"I am."

"What can I do?"

Tommy was looking at Dora with eyes wide with sincerity and fear. Tommy Shelby, Small Heath's most ruthless son, was scared - and he was looking to her for some kind of answer to assuage that fear.

"You can start by telling me the truth." Dora finally decided - because that was where all their problems had started, wasn't it? When Tommy had started keeping secrets, omitting information, and outright lying to her, so it stood to reason that (hopefully) ending that would end the rift between them: "About everything - everything that you haven't told me about, all the lies, all the little things you've danced around. All of it."

"Where do you want me to start?" Tommy asked, the fearful expression morphing into one of resignation: as if he thought that what he had to say would drive her away. But she didn't let that stop her from gesturing the chair by her bedside.

"You can start with the plans you've been hiding from me. We'll go from there."


	9. Friends

Dora sent Tommy out after he'd finished telling her everything she'd wanted to know - and several things she hadn't.

It was...it a lot to take in - _almost too much_ \- and she didn't think she could sort through it all properly with Tommy sitting by her bedside: she needed to be alone to have even half a chance of getting it all to make sense. She even waved Hattie and Clara away when they poked their heads around the door, smiling and telling them she just wanted to sleep off the pain for a bit. It wasn't a lie; Dora wished she could just go to sleep and put off dealing with everything Tommy had told her, but that wasn't really an option, no matter how much she wished it was.

No, she had to deal with this...all of it.

Firstly, there was Billy Kimber and the fact Tommy had decided to start fixing races behind Kimber's back. Why he had thought it was a good idea, Dora couldn't fathom, but he had - and now the Peaky Blinders were all going to have to deal with that. It was all okay, though; because Tommy 'had a plan'. How Dora had managed to not roll her eyes out of her head at hearing that, she also couldn't fathom. Billy Kimber was not someone to fuck with lightly; he might be an arrogant, jumped-up little twat, but he was an arrogant, jumped-up little twat with an empire built on the bodies that had come before him, and those who had tried to follow him. He had more men, more money for the coppers on his payroll, and more experience of leading a criminal empire than Tommy and Dora had put together. No matter what Tommy thought, Kimber was smart enough to have survived this long, and if Tommy's plan wasn't absolutely one hundred percent air-tight, then Kimber would survive the Peaky Blinders by wiping them out of existence like he had everyone else who'd tried to cross him.

Then secondly were the Lees; they still weren't happy with Tommy and didn't appear to be letting go of that unhappiness any time soon. And was Tommy doing anything to appease them, or even not anger them any further? Of course not: his 'plan' to deal with Kimber was to gain his trust by removing the Lees from Kimber's race courses - but only until he had Kimber's trust: then he was going to attempt a truce with the Lees. Fucking bollocks, the whole situation. The Lees weren't going to go down quietly; they were already furious, and Tommy turfing them out of the racecourses they were making money from wasn't exactly going to calm them down any. And just when they were at the angriest, Tommy was going to ask for their help to overthrow Kimber. Because what could _possibly_ go wrong with that plan?

And thirdly there was Inspector Campbell. Dora didn't even know where to start with him. Apparently Secretary of State Winston Churchill had personally sent Campbell to find a 'missing' crate of weapons - Lewis machine guns, semi-automatic rifles, and pistols, along with ammunition and shells. A 'missing' crate that Dora knew Tommy knew the exact location of: a location that he was keeping from Campbell despite_ Tommy admitting to Campbell that he knew where the guns were_. If Dora had thought that his plan for dealing with Kimber and the Lees was bad, his plan for dealing with Kimber was...Dora didn't even have the words to describe how much she thought Tommy's plan to deal with Inspector Campbell was fucking awful. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many things they couldn't predict, so much they were relying on other people for: hoping those people would do what Tommy thought they would do. It was such a mess, it was such a fucking mess, and the only outcomes Dora could see coming true were bleak.

_We're going to die. One way or another - be it Kimber, the Lees, or Inspector Campbell - we're all going to die._

And then there was the fact that Tommy thought he might be in love with Grace Burgess. Grace Burgess, who they all knew was lying about something. Grace Burgess, the Irishwoman who just conveniently showed up in Birmingham at the same time as Inspector Campbell. Grace fucking Burgess, who seemed to be just a perfect match for Tommy.

Dora didn't believe in perfect matches. Perfect matches were just a performance - and Grace was acting like she wanted to win a fucking award for it. If Dora had to guess why, she'd guess it was because Grace was trying to get something out of Tommy, or because she wanted to turn him over to Campbell while he was vulnerable in some way. Tommy wouldn't hear it, though, she could tell by the way he spoke about her. He might not outright say that he loved her, but Dora had known Tommy since before they knew what romantic love was, and she could tell he loved her. His eyes almost glowed with how bright they were, his lips were turned up at the corners in a constant smile, and his tone was reverent - far more so than it had ever been in a church.

It made Dora's stomach turn.

She'd known Tommy would never love her the way she loved him - and it had always been a very real possibility that he would find someone else to love the way she loved him, she'd known that too. But now it was happening and Dora...Dora didn't know what to do. She wanted to cry, she wanted to be sick, she wanted to _break something_...but she couldn't. Or at least she wouldn't. Tommy was in love, and as much as it twisted her stomach to acknowledge it, Dora would rather Tommy was happy. Grace would make him happy. So Dora wasn't going to say a word against her. As much as it hurt her, it really was that simple. She'd speak to Polly, voice her concerns about Grace's trustworthiness _(not about being in love with Tommy, never about being in love with Tommy)_, but after that she was going to back away completely. To protect herself, and to make sure Tommy had every chance to be happy - because that was what he deserved. No matter how angry she had been with him recently, there had never been any doubt that his happiness mattered to her.

If Grace wound up being innocent of working with Campbell, then Dora would welcome her with open arms: because that was what would make Tommy happen. Providing that they lived that long - because God only knew that between Billy Kimber, the Lees, and Inspector Campbell, their chances were slim.

It was on those grounds that Dora discharged herself the following morning, releasing herself into the care of Hattie and Clara who had come to visit her. Hattie wasn't too pleased to see Dora up and about, but one look from Dora _(the Older Sister Don't Argue With Me look that Dora had been using since Hattie was old enough to walk)_ and she helped Clara escort Dora back to Small Heath.

"Are you sure you don't want us to call Arthur?" Hattie asked for the fourth or fifth time, worry clear on her face: "He was very insistent that he'd be happy to come and pick you up with a car."

"It would be much easier on you; you are still recovering - from more than the explosion." Clara piped up, just as worried as Hattie, even if she was trying not to show it.

Their sincere concern was why, despite the pain she was in making her irritable at almost everything going on around her, from cars to birds, Dora wasn't annoyed with her sisters: "I'm certain. I don't want to wait around - I just want to get home."

Her sisters clearly didn't believe her - or at least didn't believe that she was telling the whole truth...which was fair, because of course she wasn't. Dora did want to get back home to Small Heath; because she didn't want to be a sitting duck in a hospital bed, just waiting for Kimber, or Inspector Campbell, or the Lees to come and finish her off. She would be far safer at home, where her gun was resting in the top drawer of the bedside table, and she would happily explain that to her sisters as soon they weren't in danger of being overheard.

Of course, that didn't mean her sisters were going to let the issue go without argument. They didn't know what Dora's reasoning was, or that it was perfectly reasonable, and they were just as stubborn as Dora was, so of course they pushed.

"I thought you and Tommy made up - he seemed hopeful when he left you last night." Clara questioned, frowning in confusion.

_Lord, save me_ \- "This isn't about my fight with Tommy. I just want to get home."

"'This isn't about you and Tommy, then why won't you let us call Arthur?" Hattie pushed: "We'd have to wait a little bit, but over-all we'd still get you home sooner by car than like this. You're limping, and it's getting worse."

Of course, because Dora's luck was the worst it had ever been, as if her sisters weren't being pushy enough, the man they were talking about appeared as if summoned by his name, leaning out of the window of a car and frowning at her: "Why aren't you still in hospital?"

"Tommy - "

"No - get in the car first, then argue with me."

Dora knew she should be offended by Tommy's brusque tone - but there was something fragile in his eyes, something very close to the fear she had seen yesterday, so for once she didn't pick him up on him ordering her around. She just got in the front seat, while her sisters got in the back, and waited until Tommy had turned to car around to drive back to Small Heath before she twisted to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Am I allowed to speak now, your highness?"

Tommy swallowed - if she didn't know him better, she'd guess he was nervous - but glanced at her when he wasn't paying attention to the road: "Of course you can Dora - I didn't mean to imply that you weren't allowed."

Dora was aware of her sisters sharing a confused look - _because Tommy had never apologised to her before, not to their knowledge_ \- but she ignored them to focus on her friend: "I know. I didn't mean to be so short. But you know why I couldn't stay in the hospital."

"I do - that's why I was coming to pick you up with the car. You shouldn't be walking around with what you've been through, but I knew you wouldn't wait for your sisters to wait to call Arthur."

"For reasons that have yet to be explained to us." Hattie reminded Tommy coldly, clearly still not too fond of him, even if she had thought he and Dora had made up from their fight: "Why couldn't she stay at the hospital?"

"I'll explain when we get home." Dora promised, looking Hattie in the eye to let her know that she meant it, before turning back to Tommy again: "Thank you for coming to get me. I appreciate it."

Tommy looked uncomfortable, but didn't shrug Dora off like she expected him to have done normally: "You don't have to thank me. Not for trying to look out for you." he cleared his throat, clearly wanting to change the subject: "Finn's been asking after you. Not sure how long we'll be able to keep him away once he know's your back home."

Clara chimed in that Finn had been at her door asking after Dora every time he passed the house - and sometimes just because he was hoping for some good news. Dora couldn't help but be warmed by Finn's concern - she had missed him dearly, and it was nice to know she had been missed in return. And Tommy was clearly happy to grasp the chance of not having to talk about anything too raw, told Dora that he'd been collecting flowers for her to make her feel better - only some of the flowers had been poison ivy, much to Polly's frustration. It made all of them, even Hattie, laugh, and suddenly it was like nothing had happened between them: with Dora laughing and Tommy's eyes glinting with genuine warmth and amusement.

They were friends again, and it felt good.

Of course, it couldn't last.

It never did.

Billy Kimber and his accountant were waiting outside the Garrison, flanked by two of Kimber's men. Tommy didn't look too surprised by their presence, but it was clear from the tightening of his jaw that he wasn't happy to see them. But the Peaky Blinders were working for Kimber now, and that meant Tommy had no right to send him away without the meeting that he clearly wanted to have _right now_, the bastard.

_Arrogant, jumped-up little twat indeed._

The impression certainly wasn't disproved by the slimy smirk Kimber wore when he made eye contact with Tommy, or his brash words: "Come on then, Thomas. You can even bring your little pet bird with you, if you want."

"Miss Crawford is just back from the hospital, Mr Kimber - her sisters will be taking her home," Tommy tried to insist, but Kimber was having none of it:

"Just out of hospital?" he repeated: "We'll have to celebrate! You can't let your left hand woman go home without a drink, Thomas. I won't hear otherwise!"

It was obviously a trap, Dora could see that much a mile away. But it was a trap with no way out, not now Kimber had them in his sight.

So into the Garrison with the men she went.


	10. Plans

Dora didn't like Billy Kimber.

While his accountant - clearly the brains of the whole outfit - spoke to Tommy, Kimber was looking her up and down like her shirt and trousers were already on the floor, and she didn't like it. It wasn't that she felt vulnerable, that wasn't the right way to describe it, but the feeling of Kimber's eyes on her made Dora's skin crawl and itch. It made her want to take the pistol Hattie had pressed into her hand as they'd parted and shoot Kimber right between the eyes...but instead all she could do was stare back at him and try to convey just how much he disgusted her with nothing but a blank expression. She wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on earth; God only knew what she'd catch from if he did, and even of that wasn't a consideration, the sheer ego of the man meant he'd never let any of the Peaky Blinders forget that he'd fucked one of them.

But, much to her despair, clearly her lack of response to his questioning looks wasn't enough to put Kimber off Dora.

"I don't know how you get anything done, Thomas, what with your barmaid and this one around." he smirked, speaking as if Dora wasn't even sitting in the same room as them.

It made her hackles rise - but clearly Tommy wasn't too pleased either: his voice icily cold when he responded: "Theodora is just as much my family as my sister, Mr Kimber."

_So watch what you say._

Despite the unspoken message behind Tommy's words, Kimber didn't stop looking at Dora with a salacious expression: "You're not fucking the barmaid with the clap, and you're not fucking this one? I think you might be mad, mate."

"Do you have a reason for being here, Mr Kimber?" Dora asked coldly. She still wasn't a member of the Peaky Blinders, not officially, and so she didn't officially have to respect Kimber: "Other than to make lewd comments?"

Again, Kimber didn't reply to her - he turned to address Tommy, face contorted in anger: "You let all your men talk to their betters like this, or is she special 'cos she's got a hole between her legs?"

"I'm not a Peaky Blinder - so you speak to me, not Tommy." Dora snapped, shocking Kimber (and Tommy) into looking at her: "Let's get one thing clear, mate. You aren't going to fuck me. Even if you were, you're not going to get to fuck me by talking to a man who is for all intents and purposes my brother. So, unless you have some business to discuss, I would like for this meeting to be over. I am, after all, still recovering."

None of the men in the room seemed to have anything to say in response to Dora's speech - and she was vindictively pleased by that.

Let them be speechless; they thought they could speak about her as if she wasn't in the room, as if she was fucking brainless, but she wasn't. Even Tommy, who had been trying to defend her, needed to remember that she didn't need his protection. He hadn't asked her to be a Peaky Blinder again, hadn't welcomed her back into the group, had even fully brought her up to date on what was going on, and yet she was having to hold her own in this parley anyway - because of him and his ridiculous plans. And because of Billy Kimber's arrogance. So she was glad she'd rendered the men with nothing to say.

Dora was done playing nice with men who thought she was weak: and that meant Billy Kimber.

Tommy...Tommy she would decided how she would go forward with later. When she wasn't focused on dealing with Kimber and making sure he didn't kill her and Tommy before walking out of here.

"You've got a mouth on you, haven't you Theodora?" Kimber slowly smirked, as if she'd somehow amused him. The prick.

Still, she didn't change her attitude: "It's Miss Crawford."

"Miss Crawford, then." the smirk grew: "You know, you might dress like a man, and fucking run your mouth like one too, but I like you. If you ever get bored of this little shit hole, come and find me...but until then, I am actually here to talk to you 'brother' here."

"Then talk." Dora snapped: "I'm not leaving here until he does, so you might as well get on with it."

Still Kimber's smirk didn't fade. But he did turn to Tommy and finally get down to business: "It seems you've not been able to deal with the Lees as efficiently as you said you would. I'm rather disappointed about that, Thomas; I was really hoping that you would have dealt with those little bastards by now."

"The Lees have been pulling some rather unexpected tricks..." Tommy finally got to respond, clearly relieved _(even if perhaps it was only clear to Dora)_ to have the subject firmly back to business.

Tommy knew how to talk business: knew how to spin a web that Kimber would fall into without realising. Dora let him do it, happy to be quiet now her headache was getting worse. She needed to sleep off the rest of her injuries, but there was no chance she was leaving Tommy here to deal with Kimber, his accountant, and his muscle on his own. He was smart, and vicious when he wanted to be, and a four-on-one scenario was never a good one for the 'one' in the situation.

And as the meeting went on, Dora could see that she was right to have made that decision.

Kimber was done with them. He didn't think the Peaky Blinders could deal with the Lees, and so as far as he was concerned their deal was over, and he'd turn on them as soon as he could find an opportunity to do so. If Dora had left Tommy alone, she was in no doubt that Kimber would've killed him, because he could and because he wanted out of the deal he'd made...but that wasn't going to happen. Dora wasn't going to let Kimber kill them just because he was suddenly having some 'buyers' remorse'. The Shelbys had too much riding on this - _their very lives, in the cases of Tommy, Arthur, and John_ \- for Dora to allow Kimber to just bowl over them like he did everyone else. He might have destroyed other gangs he'd worked with, but he wouldn't destroy the Peaky Blinders. Dora wouldn't allow it.

They were her family, small Heath was her home, this was her life. Nothing and no-one, not even the infamous Billy Kimber, was going to take that away from her. So Dora sat back in her chair and watched the accountant with sharp eyes...and he watched her right back, so she knew he knew she was aware of what he and his boss had planned.

Like his boss, he looked her up and down appreciatively, but Dora could tell it was nothing to do with the way she looks, or some desire to force her to shut her mouth - _which she was certain was part of why Kimber wanted her_ \- no, it was a cold appreciation. He was playing a game, and he thought that she was going to be an interesting opponent.

_Oh, you have no idea_, Dora thought darkly, never breaking eye contact with the man.

Dora wasn't playing a game...this was a fight, and it was a fight that Dora would win, even if it meant she had to step over bodies to do so. It wouldn't be the first time she'd killed a man to protect her family. She hadn't hesitated the last time she'd had to pull the trigger, and she wouldn't hesitate now.

So she smiled at the accountant, and watched his appreciation morph into something a little less relaxed.

_Now you're starting to get it. Far too late, and your boss isn't going to listen to you, but at least you'll know who's going to put you in the ground._

"I'll give you one more chance, Thomas." Kimber finally announced, like he was doing the Blinders a favour, like he was some benevolent king, before standing to leave: "Do not let me down. And as for you, Miss Crawford...don't forget my proposition."

Neither Tommy or Dora said a word, watching Kimber and his entourage leave in silence.

They waited until they were sure there was no chance of being overheard before turning to each other, Dora's mind already trying to prioritise what needed to happen first, when Tommy pulled her into a hug.

It was short, strong arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling close to a warm chest to squeeze her briefly against him, making her pulse flutter _(no - that's just because I'm tired and hurting, I can't think about him that way now he's really got someone else)_ before the hold was over as quickly as it had begun. Dora looked at Tommy in askance _(why, why did you do that, why can't you just give me some distance when I need it?)_ but Tommy was already getting up and walking over to the bar, as if the hug had never happened.

_Fine._

Dora could ignore it ever happened too _(it was probably best that I do, for my own sake)_ she just moved straight on to business: "Kimber isn't going to allow us to live. We're going to need men to fight him, and we're going to need them soon."

"I know." Tommy nodded grimly, pouring them both a whiskey: "It's sooner than I would have liked, but I'm going to set up a parley with the Lees for today."

Meeting him at the bar, Dora took her glass and downed it: "I'll get Polly and the others. You can't take everyone, but you'll take Arthur and Polly as back up when you talk to the Lees. John and I can hold the fort in case Kimber decides to change his mind about your 'second chance'."

"Are you sure you're up to it? Is your head okay? Did Hattie gave you your gun?"

"My head's fine, and she did." Dora nodded, ignoring the sincere concern in Tommy's eyes: because this was business now, and they weren't dealing with any feelings anymore: "Besides, who else have we got? You and Freddie aren't getting on, Danny's in London, and Ada doesn't want you to know where she is. We have to move quickly and make do with what we've got."

Tommy didn't look happy, but he nodded all the same: "I'll be back before sundown. Close the shop - no-one comes in or out until Arthur, Polly, and I get back. We don't know what all of Kimber's men look like."

Dora nodded back, accepting that they'd have to lose a few bets with ease when it came to saving all their necks: "Don't take a gun to talk to the Lees. Arthur and Polly can carry as many weapons as they want - you go in empty handed. They'll kill you the moment they find a weapon on you."

Tommy nodded again, and all of a sudden it was like the last five weeks had never happened. Hell, it was almost like the war itself had never happened; the two of them concocting a plan with a seamless ease that Dora had thought might be missing for good after Tommy came back from France, hard-eyed and living like he was on borrowed time. It made just being his friend feel like it was going to be so much easier.

It gave her hope.

Buoyed by the feeling, she turned to leave to round up the family while Tommy tracked down Johnny Dogs to set up a talk with the Lees, only to be stopped by Tommy once more reach out to grab her: his hand settling on her wrist and pulling her back a step.

This time when she looked at him, he was looking back and ready to talk to her: "I never said you weren't one of us, Dora. A Peaky Blinder or a Shelby."

_I'm sorry. Come back. Be one of us_.

"I was probably going to start wearing the cap again anyway - it's the warmest one I've got, and it's a bit chilly for this time of year." she shrugged. Because there were some things that had to remain unspoken, no matter how important they were.

_I know. I never left. Of course I'm one of you._

She knew Tommy understood; he smiled at her, and squeezed her wrist gently before releasing her: "Be safe, Dora. If anything happens, let John get punched in the face; he hasn't got much sense to be knocked out of him anyway."

"You be careful too; you lose any more of you're common sense and we're going to be saying the same thing about you."

They parted without another word. And despite her hope for the future, a stone settled in the pit of her stomach. There was so much that could go wrong...and nothing she could do about it. The plan was in motion now.

All she could do was try and keep it on track - and pray they all lived to the end.


	11. Equals

John wasn't saying too much to Dora - he was mostly peering at her in concern when he thought she wasn't looking, and rushing to do any physical jobs before she could reach them. Obviously he thought she shouldn't be out of the hospital, but he was smart enough not to argue with her; it was plain to everyone to see that the Peaky Blinders didn't have enough men to take on Kimber, and Tommy had called before he left to meet the Lees to say that he'd received warning Kimber was planning on turning on them. So despite his reservations, John wasn't giving her any more trouble than she was already getting from her aching ribs, throbbing headache, and multitude of bruises. He was a good boy that way.

He even made her a cup of tea: handing it to her - with the saucer and everything - just as there was a knock on the door. And not a friendly, or polite, one.

The pair of them shared a look, John gesturing for Dora to pull her gun out before he went to get the door. She pressed herself against the wall beside the kitchen door: the narrow space the only spot she could hide in but still be cover John if she needed to.

Unfortunately, her pistol wouldn't do any good against their visitor.

"Inspector Campbell." John greeted the paddy bastard in a monotone: "Weren't expecting you."

Campbell's tone was mockingly cheerful when he responded to John's unspoken 'what the fuck are you doing here': "The best way to catch criminals is when they're not expecting you, Mr Shelby."

_Not a chance, you vicious, self-righteous cunt._

"Inspector Campbell. I don't believe we've met." Dora interrupted, stepping into view and - very visibly - tucking her gun into her shoulder holster.

The two men accompanying Campbell _(familiar faces around Small Heath, men who had seen the worst of Dora's actions)_ paled - but the man himself merely smirked: "Theodora Crawford. I had been wondering where you got to."

"Dora - " John hissed, eyes wide with warning, but Dora just smiled at him:

"John, be a dear and fetch my tea, would you? And perhaps the Inspector would like a cup, too?" she turned to Campbell: "Please, do come in Inspector. Sit and have some tea with me."

Campbell looked taken-aback - it was only for a second, but he couldn't hide the uncertainty that flashed over his face from Dora. She'd been watching for it, and now she'd seen it she knew she had him.

He didn't know her. Hadn't listened to his men's reports on her. Thought she was just _'a-Shelby-not-called-a-Shelby'_, as many had called her. He wasn't the first man to make that mistake, and he likely wouldn't be the last, but Dora had traded on the idea that she was only tough when she was around some of the men for a very long time. A lot of them hadn't seen her during the war, and many of those who had had forgotten how she could be far crueller than John or Arthur or Tommy when she wanted to be...and Dora let them live in ignorance just so she could take advantage of that misinformation at times like these.

Their position was too precarious right now: Campbell could not be allowed to tip the scales in Kimber's favour. What he could be allowed to do, though, was do Moss's usual job, and keep the coppers out of the Peaky Blinder's way.

Dora smiled politely as she sunk into one of the parlour's arm chairs, and gestured for the now smirking Inspector to sit opposite her.

He might think he was smart, but Dora was smarter. And as he made himself comfortable in his chair, having left his men outside the closed front door, he was taking his first steps onto the exact path Dora wanted him on. And he stayed right on it when he accepted the tea John made him and then proceeded to ignore him as he stood protectively behind Dora.

Almost ignore him, anyway: "I had thought it was you that followed the Shelbys around, Miss Crawford, not the other way around."

"Do you have siblings, Inspector Campbell?" Dora gave her best socialite smile - the one that worked so well to hide the sharp look in her eyes: "Perhaps a sister?"

"Alas, I am an only child."

Figures. "Ah, then maybe you wouldn't automatically understand how my relationship with the Shelbys work. Many don't, you know, in fact the only people who do seem to be twins."

"Twins?"

"Yes, it's so strange." Dora chuckled: "You see, they think Tommy and I are rather like twins, despite not actually being related at all. Something to do with the fact that neither of us leads: there is no 'older sibling' who takes charge, no-one calling the shots. We're family, and we're equal."

"Until he throws you out." Campbell challenged: "Because you're not really a Shelby."

Dora waved the comment away, secretly cheering at how easily the Inspector had taken the path she'd put him on: "Oh, that unpleasantness. I don't hold that against Tommy, you know; it could have been anyone - even John here - I was just on the receiving end of some of some unfortunate stress he's been under recently."

For a few seconds, Dora debated letting Campbell see her metaphorical teeth and remarking on his role in causing Tommy's stress...but even with her veiled threats, Campbell would probably only see her warning him off as some kind of sign he was doing something right. And John was so tense behind her he was already close to snapping. She didn't want to risk worrying him about her upsetting Campbell in case his trigger finger got itchy.

As tempting as it would be to paint the wall with Campbell's brains, it would create more problems than it would solve, so she let the wish dissipate and focused on putting her plan into action.

"I do hope poor Thomas isn't under too much pressure." Campbell sneered, albeit through a 'kindly' smile.

"Oh, he'll deliver you your guns, Inspector Campbell, I'm sure." Dora smiled at the return of the shocked expression: "Equals, remember? I know all about the deals Tommy makes."

_Remember that, you conniving bastard. People know what you're doing, and people will know if you try anything._

"I'm happy to hear he has someone keep track of his more colourful arrangements, Miss Crawford." Campbell finally responded, somehow making Dora sound like she was some kind of fucking secretary while also casting aspersions on her moral character: "I'm sure he'd be lost without you...just as the rest of the Shelbys would be. I was so upset to hear what the Lees did to you."

Dora didn't believe him for a second, but she put on a grateful expression all the same: "Oh, that's so kind of you to say. But the Lees won't be a problem for much longer. They'll be going the same way as Billy Kimber, even if they don't know it yet." she laughed, pretending she see the the sudden glint of interest in the Inspector's eyes.

After that, all she did was have to mention the day she and Tommy had decided they would lure Billy Kimber the Worcester Races. Campbell didn't ask, but she knew he'd taken note of it, and he left as soon as he could without being suspicious, having no idea that he'd been manipulated into doing exactly what the Peaky Blinders wanted him to.

It was _that fucking easy_, Dora almost wanted to laugh.

The good Inspector had even forgotten to search the house; for a smart man, he was incredibly easy to get around when you knew what to tell him. Dora knew he hated Tommy, she saw it in his eyes whenever Tommy's name passed anyone's lips, and she knew that he wanted Tommy dead - but he'd never do it himself. He was smart man, and Tommy was too well known and too well respected _(or feared, some might say)_ to just disappear. But she'd just handed him the opportunity to get rid of Tommy in a way that would never be connected to him: by letting Billy Kimber publicly shoot him and take all the credit and blame that came with it. He might even take Kimber down, just for the good stead it would put him in with his superiors - what more could he want? Tommy would be out of his way, he'd get a promotion, and all he had to do was keep the cops away from the Peaky Blinders while they dealt with Kimber.

Once Kimber was out of the way...then they could deal with Campbell. And Dora would take great pleasure in personally making sure that he never thought to cross the Peaky Blinders or the Shelbys ever again. Hopefully she'd get to shoot him. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

For now...keeping an eye on the shop sounded about all Dora was good for. Her headache was painting white splotches across her vision, and to be perfectly honest all she wanted was to get some sleep - but until Polly, Tommy, and Arthur came back she needed to stay alert.

Planning was a good way to get around the nagging urge to go to sleep.

Relying on Campbell would be stupid; he was about as trustworthy as a snake, and far less reliable. At least with a snake you expected it to bite, with Campbell Dora had no idea if or when he'd stop acting as predicted, so it was best to plan that he wouldn't from the start. Which meant making sure their men were out on the beat as much as possible between now and when they put Kimber down. And it also meant finding his spy, and start feeding them false information. Though in her gut she might still believe it was Grace, for Tommy's sake Dora knew she needed to explore all avenues before she made that accusation to him - and tell him to stop telling Grace everything the Peaky Blinders were doing. Because Dora would bet he told Grace he and 'the family' were off the see the Lees today, and lo and behold Campbell showed up at the door. But she'd need more proof than a coincidence...and while she was getting that proof, there would have to be plans put in place for the power vacuum killing Billy Kimber would leave behind.

Obviously the Peaky Blinders were going to step into that gap, and with the Lees with them they'd have enough men to do so, but Dora was pretty sure that there would be others who would try to unseat them in the chaos.

The Hoxton Gang, the Elephant and Castle Mob, the Brummagem Boys...they'd all be happy to take advantage of Kimber's absence, even if none of them were willing to do anything to make that absence come about. The Hoxton Gang had their own problems at the moment, it wouldn't be too hard to fend them off. The Elephant and Castle Mob...the Blinders might need help with them, if only because it was hard to fight someone in a different part of the country, but Dora would bet there would be plenty of Londoners happy to get rid of them for the Peaky Blinders, given the right incentives. And as for the Brummagem Boys, they knew better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders - they might just need a little reminder of that fact.

She was already thinking about who they might be able to reach out to in London, who might need something from them in return, when the others returned. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why they were back after just a few hours, but the look on Arthur's face said it all.

_It obviously went well, then._

"We've made a deal." Tommy announced, lips tilted up just slightly at the corners: "The Lees will come with us to Worcester Races this weekend."

Arthur grinned: "Kimber's not going to know what hit him."

"Touch wood." Dora muttered, reaching out to rap her knuckles on the kitchen table.

She only hoped they hadn't jinxed it.


	12. Jinxed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the next few chapters are very similar to the one-shot that inspired this story, so if you're wondering why they're familiar that'd be why. If you only want to read new stuff, then skip ahead to part 15.

_Black Star Day._

_It's here._

Dora was buttoning up her waistcoat, fighting to keep her fingers steady as she did so. Today was the day the Peaky Blinders attempted the biggest coup they'd ever planned...and though so far everything was looking as it was supposed to, Dora couldn't help feeling nervous. She figured that that was healthy, after all it wasn't every day one woke up knowing that morning might be their last, but that didn't mean it was pleasant.

Truth be told, she was actually feeling like she was going to be sick. But there would be no good in doing that, so despite her nerves Dora pulled herself together and focused on putting today's plan in action.

First was to get over to the Shelby's and Ada and baby Karl out of the way. Then she'd accompany the boys to the Garrison, where they were meeting the others to go down to Worcester. The Lees had gone on ahead, in order to escape Kimber's notice, so they'd see them there later. She and Tommy would go into the box, where Kimber would be, and Dora would try and draw him out before the starting pistol for the first race. Given his apparent interest, she didn't think it'd be too hard. And then once he was out of view and earshot of the others in the box, Tommy would shoot him in the back of the head just as the pistol for the first race fired.

It wasn't glamorous, or noble, and yes there was still so much that could go wrong, but it was as straight forward as they could make it, and that would have to be enough.

Pushing the feeling of anxiety deep down, where she could more easily ignore it, Dora finished with her waistcoat, pulled on her jacket, and carefully placed her cap on her head before heading over the Shelby's. She didn't think about how it could be the last time she left her house, or the last time she entered the Shelby's, or the last time she saw Ada and Karl and Polly...but suddenly Tommy slammed into the living room, his eyes wild to the point of being frenzied, and then Dora wasn't think about anything other than what on earth had put that look on her friend's face.

_Dead God, what's happened? What's gone wrong?_

“Ada, you and the baby get in the Bull Ring, where there’s plenty of people.”

Polly ignored Tommy's order, cutting off his pacing a her sharp tone: “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been fucking betrayed.” Tommy exhaled, running a hand through his hair and starting to pace again: “Somebody let slip: Kimber’s men are on their way here.”

_Fucking Hell, of all the things to go wrong..._

Polly immediately started helping Ada up out of her chair, looking to Tommy to ask if he could handle them, but Dora shook her head before Tommy could respond, having just realised what Polly hadn’t: “It’s just us. The Lees on their way to Worcester - even if we send someone after them, they won’t get back in time.”

“They won’t. We’re outnumbered” Tommy slammed his fists down on the side cabinet: “Fuck!”

“Who else knew today was the day you were moving on Kimber?” Polly asked...although everyone in the room already knew what the answer was: “You said you kept it a secret - who else did you tell?”

Tommy sighed, jaw working in silence, and Polly turned to Dora - but Dora wasn't looking at her.

Her friend's eyes were glistening with tears. Dora had never seen Tommy even come close to tears while the sun was up...and she couldn’t kick him while he was down, which was exactly what telling Polly what she already knew would be. Saying it aloud would just make it all the more real for him, all the more painful, and Dora wouldn’t do that to him. Not now, not today.

“There’s only one thing that could blind a man as smart as you, Tommy. Love. It was that barmaid, wasn’t it?” Polly demanded. Tommy turned his face away, eyes only getting wetter, making Polly frown at her nephew with sympathy that he couldn’t see with his back turned to her: “I'll deal with Grace. If you set eyes on her again you might kill her. Just focus on Kimber, I’ll sort out the rest.”

Polly left in a whirl of quiet fury, and Ada slipped out with little Karl a few seconds later, leaving Dora and Tommy alone in the living room.

She watched his shoulders rise and fall for a few moments, just slightly unsteady, but for Tommy that was like a fucking siren blaring that something was wrong. Dora hadn't been able to find anything that pointed to Grace as Campbell's informant, but even if she had...she wouldn't have wanted Tommy to find out in any way like this. If she needed to, she had planned to break it to him gently, but this...this must be breaking his heart.

He loved Grace. Grace knew he loved her.

And this was how she repaid him.

“I don’t want you to fight with me today, Theodora.” Tommy suddenly said, his voice low and dark in the quiet of the room: “Go with Ada.”

Dora was already shaking her head: “Not a chance. I’m a Peaky Blinder - ”

“You’re a fucking bitch!” Tommy shouted, turning on Dora in a towering rage: “This is what you wanted all a-fucking-long, you selfish, stupid bitch! What, did you think I didn’t see? You’ve hated Grace from the start! And why, because you wanted me to yourself? Well, I don’t want you! I never have, and I never fucking will - because I had a chance at happiness with Grace, and now because you somehow poisoned Polly against her, Polly is going to run Grace off, and I’m going to be alone for the rest of my fucking life! And it’s all your fault, you selfish fucking cunt!”

Tommy panted in the silence that followed his outburst, while Dora waited patiently for him to finish.

She knew she was giving the appearance of an adult waiting for a child to finish having a tantrum, with her arms folded across her chest and her hip cocked, but in reality her arms were crossed so she could hide how her hands were shaking, and her hip was cocked because if Dora didn’t stand like this she was afraid her knees might give out from under her. Because Tommy’s words fucking _ hurt _. Dora had had people been cruel to her in the past, of course she had, but not Tommy. Never Tommy; he’d always been her best friend and biggest advocate, her knight in soot-smeared armour whenever she’d needed help, or her first supporter when she’d handled her own business. That alone had made her put up with a lot: barking orders at her, dismissing her when he thought women had no place making decisions in his business, even exiling her.

But it didn’t excuse _this_.

Dora was Tommy’s friend - maybe she loved him, but first and foremost she always had been his friend first: from when they’d started walking home from school together, to when she’d been sending him care packages while he was at the front, to when he came back unable to sleep from nightmares, and everything in between. And truth be told, she would probably want to be his friend after all of this had blown over, but even the fact that she loved him didn’t mean she was going to let him talk to her like that. 

“I’ll keep this short, Tommy. I don’t want you - I don’t want any man who apparently holds me in such low esteem.” Dora told him, her voice as cold and hard as his had been when he’d told her to go after Ada: “The fact that Grace betrayed you to Campbell has nothing to do with me or Polly - who never discussed the matter, by the way. As much as I’m sorry that she has, and my heart hurts for you that you think you can’t be happy without, I’ll be damned if I let you blame me for your stupidity.”

Tommy sneered: “My only stupid act - ”

“_Shut the fuck up!_ I’m talking now, and you’re going to fucking listen!" Dora snapped: "You didn’t see that the barmaid was using you, and that’s your own damn fault - not mine, not Polly’s, no-one’s but yours. And you’re going to have to deal with that. Probably on your own, but then that’s how you like things these days, isn’t it? Just watch you don’t get us all killed dealing with Kimber and his men so you get the chance, won’t you?”

Dora stormed out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Tommy alone with his anger. She made sure Ada had made it to the Bull Ring safely, ignoring the younger Shelby’s questions about why Dora was so pale and so tense, before heading to the Garrison where she knew Polly would be ‘dealing’ with Grace.

Truth be told, Dora had never understood what Tommy saw in Grace. She was pretty - not stunning, but certainly a woman men would give a second glance. Her personality wasn’t quite as brash as most of the women around Small Heath, but Dora guessed she had to have shown Tommy some spine for him to be interested in her. Maybe it was the fact she’d fought to sing in the Garrison, maybe it was because she never looked at Tommy with fear or respect like everyone else in Small Heath did, or maybe it was something that had gone on between just them that Dora would never know about. At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter much. Grace was still going to have to go, for the good of not just Tommy, and not even the Shelby family, but for the good of all the Peaky Blinders. And one way or another, Polly and Dora would make sure Grace never showed her face in Small Heath ever again.

She walked in just as Polly stepped into Grace's line of sight, stunning her by asking: “Going for good?”

“I heard there was trouble.” Grace responded, looking nervously between Dora and Polly, before deciding to focus on the older woman, leaving Dora to take her place between Grace and the door.

Polly just smiled - though there was nothing pleasant or warm about the expression: “Instinct’s a funny thing. See, normally I can tell about a person, but with you...”

“Look, the fighting is about to begin.” Grace replied, desperation starting to creep into her eyes: “We should get out of here.”

“We know who you are.”

Grace rocked back a step.

She tried to hide it: only froze for a second, before she was moving again, swinging her handbag over her shoulder, but Dora had seen her reaction, knew Polly had too. And she knew both of them saw that Grace never moved forward to make up the space she’d lost.

Maybe it was something to do with Polly reaching up to pull out one of her hair pins.

“Tommy knows as well.” Polly carried on, her tone almost conversational, even as advanced on Grace with her hair pin in hand.

Dora saw Grace open her handbag, and had own gun lifted to aim between the barmaid’s eyes before she could even pull the weapon free: “I wouldn’t.”

“I am an agent of the crown.” Grace ignored Dora, aiming her pistol at Polly and finally feeling brave enough to step forward once again - like her gun made any difference: “I have the power to arrest, and the right to use force. So please, Theodora, step out of my way.”

Polly didn’t so much as blink: “Like I say, instinct’s a funny thing. You won’t shoot me, and you won’t shoot Dora, either.”

“I will do whatever I need to do.” Grace responded.

“And that’s your problem.” Dora snapped: “Whatever you need to do? Lie to people, send them to their deaths, even kill them yourself. And for what?”

“Don’t you try and take the moral high ground with me, Theodora, You’re no stranger to lying, or worse.”

“I’m not - I’ve lied, I’ve beaten people, and I’ve killed: but every law I’ve broken, every awful thing I’ve done, all of it was done to help and protect the people I love. What do you do bad things for, Grace? Money? Status? Power?" Dora sneered: "Do you think those things will make you happy, in the end?”

Grace froze, but Dora wasn’t done.

This woman had hurt Tommy - and Tommy was Dora’s best friend, even when he’d hurt her.

“You’re a beautiful act, Grace but you’re empty.” Dora said quietly, looking at Grace with pity she knew the other woman would hate: “You’re a puppet made to play a part. No-one would die for you.”

Grace froze - but only for a second: “Don’t test me, Theodora. This gun is loaded.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Dora continued, still as pitying as before: “I feel sorry for you. Because you thought you could have all of this, didn’t you? Your service to the crown and a man’s love, the two happily coexisting. But then one had to come above the other. And you chose your status as an agent of the crown over the man who loved you.”

“I don’t have to answer - ”

“No, you don’t have to speak at all.” Polly continued, slowly starting to circle Grace: “Because Dora’s not the only one here who pities you. You fell for Tommy for real, didn’t you? Poor slip of a thing, you thought you’d come in here and stitch us all up. Rich girl I’d guess. Unionist? An Ulster volunteer? You thought Fenians, communists, low people, they’re all the same. Scum. But then you met Tommy.”

“You’re wrong.” Grace hissed, but neither Dora or Polly stopped looking at her with anything but pity and disgust: “I never loved Tommy! Arthur could only tell me so much - and despite what an idiot he is, even he would only trust me if Tommy trusted me first! You fucking Blinders all think the sun shines out that man’s arse, but that’s what makes you so fucking easy to get around. All I had to do was get to him, and all of you - even you two, no matter how much you suspected me - would let me do whatever I wanted.”

Polly and Dora shared a look, before Polly turned to Grace: “That was your one chance out, Grace. And you wasted it.”

“We’re not that easy to get around,” Dora re-aimed her gun at Grace’s head: “Not really.”

Grace snarled and raised her pistol again, but before she could shoot at Polly, or Dora could shoot at Grace, there was the sound of a door closing to their right.

All three of them turned to see what had made the noise, only to find Tommy leaning casually on the closed door that had been the cause of the noise that had drawn their attention.

Dora had to force herself to stay in place, focus on keeping her gun steady, even though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run out the door to get away from Tommy, or drop the gun and run towards him to comfort him. Maybe he hated her, maybe that had been his upset talking earlier, but either way he looked so broken in this second that it took Dora everything she had to just...stand and do nothing but watch his distress.

“You know, we’ve had some coppers’ narks in here before, but you Grace?” Tommy asked softly, looking at Grace with a look in his eyes that was so, so much older than he was, and so painfully tired: “You’re the queen of them all.”

Grace’s eyes softened, but by now no-one was falling for her act: “Tommy - ”

“Take her back to the house, Pol. I’ll deal with her later. Kimber’s almost at the door.”

Polly knocked Grace’s gun out of her hand and grabbed it for herself, using it to force her out the back door of the Garrison. Dora ignored Tommy’s quiet call of her name, ducking out the front door to join the throng of men waiting for Tommy to address them, unable to handle talking to him on her own at the moment. He followed her out a few seconds later, dry-eyed and confident, his usual mask firmly back in place to talk to the troops.

It was time to deal with Billy Kimber.

After that...well, Dora would think about it if she lived long enough.


	13. Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content Warning**: gunshot wound, as the title suggests, but it isn't graphic.

Dora stood at the back when Tommy jumped up on a platform to address the men, still unsure what to think when she looked at him. So she didn't look at him. She focused on looking confident for any of the men who looked to her, just as Arthur and John were doing, just as she would've done if Tommy hadn't old her he despised her.

That didn't matter. It couldn't matter. Not if Dora wanted to feel anywhere close to not loosing her mind.

“Alright men, you were mostly in the war so you know that battle plans always change and get fucked up, well here it is. Things have changed. We fight them here, today, alone.” Tommy announced the to Blinders: “Now they’re gonna come for the pub. They’re gonna try and break us up for good, and we’ll have no help from the law today. But that pub there is called the Garrison,” he told the crowd, gesturing to the pub with his pistol: “Well now it really is one. And it belongs to us, right?” 

The men roared their agreement, even Jeremiah was ready to fight to the last to make sure Billy Kimber didn’t get his way, but Dora was silent.

She wanted to be brave, wanted to believe in the fact that Billy Kimber was all mouth and no balls - that he’d swan up to the Garrison, with his little army that were soft from sitting on their arses since they came back from the war, running his big fat mouth, and that once he arrived Tommy was going to shoot him. Or Dora would. Or Arthur, John, or any of the Blinders: all of them were ready to do whatever was necessary to make sure that Kimber was sent back Leeds in a pine box. But she didn't believe it. Fear was a tight fucking grip around her throat, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't see this going well - not even if somehow their back-up plan arrived on time.

The long and short of it was simple - the Peaky Blinders were outnumbered three to one, and though Kimber's men _were_ soft from complacency, they were better armed and were certainly Kimber's more vicious soldiers. And even if Tommy won the men over with his army talk - the Small Heath Rifles had never lost a fight yet, after all - it didn't work on Dora. All she could do was try to wade through the fear in her gut, and from there it ran like any military operation Tommy had run in the war, with orders and positions being handed out and accepted without question.

Even when Dora ended up next to Tommy, she didn’t argue with him, instead waiting in tense silence just like all the others.

It was a long ten minutes, the longest Dora had experienced since meeting the men at the station when they came home from the war for good, but all too soon Kimber and his men appeared at the end of the alleyway, the rat of a man swaggering towards them like he owned the place. Of course Tommy tried to talk their way out of the ensuing gun fight, but Kimber was having none of it. He just laughed that Tommy had bitten off more than he could chew - then he looked to Dora.

“I’m going to take over this shithole...and when I do, I might finally get that one in a dress. Or out of one.”

Dora didn’t react, and neither did Tommy - at least not verbally, although Dora felt him tense in anger when Kimber leered at her: “Oh? Well, if we have to use guns...let’s use proper guns.”

As if on cue - _ because Tommy’s words had been very much a cue _ \- Danny led Freddie and his machine gun out of the factory to their left. Dora smirked, glad to see the plan had worked, even happier to see prison hadn’t broken Freddie’s spirits: “Sargent Thorne, reporting for duty sir!”

“You were saying something about being outgunned?” Tommy taunted, and that was it.

All of a sudden, every gun except Kimber’s and Tommy’s was raised and pointed at the enemy.

Dora didn’t say a prayer, had no-one to pray to, but she finally resigned herself to the fact that she might have seen her last sunrise this morning. She wasn’t sure if she had any regrets or not...maybe that the only man she’d ever loved was a man who would never see her as anything other than a friend, if even that. But would time have changed that? Probably not, so Dora didn’t dwell on the matter. Instead, she set her sights on Billy Kimber, and smirked when he noticed her doing so, widening her smirk when she saw him swallow nervously.

Clearly he wasn’t thinking about getting her naked now she had a gun pointed at him.

_ Good. _

The threat of violence filled the air...and then was broken by an all to familiar voice snapping: “Move!”

Ada pushed through the Blinders, little Karl crying in his pram, dressed head to toe in black. Dora didn’t think, she followed Ada out into the space between the Blinders and Kimber’s men, glaring daggers at any of the invaders who so much as twitched their guns towards Ada and her baby, putting herself in front of the pair while Freddie shouted: “What’re you doing?”

“I believe you boys call this ‘no-man’s land’.” Ada called back, not so much as looking over her shoulder at her husband and brothers: “So shut up and listen!”

Kimber looked at his men in question, as Freddie and Ada argued, giving Dora a chance to glance over her shoulder at the woman Dora thought had quite possibly lost her mind and mutter: “Ada...why are we standing here?”

“Because I’m proving a point and you’re the only one with the balls to be out here with me.” Ada muttered back, before raising her voice again: “Now most of you were in France...so you all know what happens next. I’ve got brothers, a sister, and a husband standing here, and you’ve all got somebody at home waiting for you. Now I’m wearing black in preparation. I want you to look at me,” Ada demanded, turning on Freddie and Tommy to get her point across to them especially: “I want you _ all _to look at me! Who’ll be wearing black for you? Think about them. Think about them right now. And fight if you want to, but that baby ain’t moving anywhere - and neither am I.”

Dora looked back at Ada again, hissing at her to avoid being overheard by the men: “As much as you’re speaking sense, I will move Karl and you, don’t think I won’t.”

“Karl first.” Ada responded, also speaking lowly to avoid either side hearing the women’s agreement.

Luckily, all the men were too focused on Kimber to pay attention to Ada or Dora, especially with Kimber speaking again: “She’s right, you know. Why should all you men die? It should just be them that caused it!”

Dora saw Kimber draw his gun, and shoved Karl’s pram as hard as she could, sending it wheeling out of the line of fire. Someone shouted in shock, but Dora didn’t have time to turn and look, already firing her own gun at Kimber just as he got off his second shot.

Then...everything stopped. It all went still and silent, and suddenly it felt like all eyes were fixed on Dora.

For some reason, Dora didn’t feel anything. She was strangely numb, as if the the stillness that had fallen over the street had fallen inside her, too. She heard was a sudden silence, and saw a look of horror spread across Kimber’s face, before she raised her hand to her chest, because it...it felt...strange. She didn't even know why she did it, but it felt like there was something vibrating on her skin, a sort of buzzing sensation that lasted for a few seconds, before Dora could feel something hot and wet gathering on the skin below her collar bone and on her palm. She pulled her hand away to confirm her suspicion - and saw that, unless Kimber had used the same sheep-brains trick Tommy had used to get Danny out of Birmingham, she’d been shot in the chest.

_ ...Oh. _

Dora didn’t think Billy Kimber had used sheep brains.

Just as quickly as the silence had fallen, it seemed the whole world exploded into sound. Someone was yelling obscenities, and then there was another gunshot - but just the one. Then a shadow fell across Dora...but it was just that: a shadow, with no face or features Dora could make out. She couldn’t even hear what they were saying - all she could hear was the sound of the blood rushing in her ears and - _ that must be good, mustn’t it? That I still have blood to be rushing? _

She tried to snap back into it when she felt hands lifting her up against someone’s chest, but the world was abruptly fading. All Dora was aware of was the burning sensation in her chest, like someone had dug a red-hot poker into her flesh and was driving it deeper and deeper. It felt like she couldn’t breathe - _maybe it was because the person holding me to their chest? is holding too tight?_ \- but at least the breathlessness was distracting her from the screaming agony...until it didn’t.

Until it felt like her chest was _on fire_.

Dora screamed and screamed and screamed, until her throat felt raw and there was nothing but the sound of her own voice in her ears and the agony in her chest.

And then there was nothing.


	14. Aftermath (II)

Once again Dora woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling.

At least, she thought she did, but as her vision cleared, though, she realised that actually, the ceiling wasn't unfamiliar. She was back in the bloody hospital - just this time she was in a much wider bed than the one she was in last time. But before she could get too angry about it, she had another realisation. The bed she was in had another body in it. And Dora never woke up in beds with other bodies in them - she made a point of it, and everyone knew that.

So despite the agony in her shoulder that sent waves of throbbing pain up her neck and down her side, she turned her head to see who had dared to try and circumvent her rules...only to see Tommy there. Tommy Shelby, another person who never stayed in bed with someone past the first dawn light, laying asleep next to her, his lanky frame curled up tight against her side and his face buried in her shoulder. He even had one of his hands resting on her stomach, on top of where her hands were laid on top of each other...which had to be difficult, given the bandage she could see wrapped around his chest and shoulder.

“He wouldn’t leave you, you know?” rasped a voice from Dora’s other side, making Dora turn again - _and fucking hell that hurt_ \- to see Polly smiling down at her, even though as far as Dora was concerned Polly still wanted her gone: “Wouldn’t stay in his own bed - would only sleep if the nurses let him share a bed with you.”

“Perks of being a Shelby, I guess.” Dora smirked dryly. Because just because Polly was glossing over their discussion in the Shelby's kitchen didn't mean Dora was.

Polly only chuckled, though, her eyes openly fond as she shook her head: "I know you think I don't like you, Dora, after our little conversation in the kitchen, but I did that for everyone's good. Including yours. You can't survive this life without a spine."

"You already knew I had a spine - I've been sitting at your kitchen table long enough. You tried to scare me off anyway, like I was one of Arthur's doxies, like you didn't fucking know who I was or what I'm made of." Dora glared: "I don't give a fuck whether or not you like me, Polly, although I really would rather we got along because, after all, I've always thought of you as family, but whether you like me or not you will fucking respect me."

Polly's smile faded...but she didn't turn angry like Dora had: “Don’t be hostile, Dora, I get enough of that from those idiots.” she gestured at Tommy with her cigarette, before turning abruptly serious: “You almost died, getting in the way of a bullet meant for Tommy.”

“Well, in my defence, I didn’t know it was for him.”

“What have I just told you about being hostile?” Polly rolled her eyes playfully: “You saved Tommy today. And little Karl - me and Ada have had a chat about that, and I know you stepped out into that no-man’s land with her to protect her and the baby. You’ve bled for this family over the last week, more than some of our actual blood, and now...well, now there'll be no shaking us off. Despite what that one said.”

Dora raised an eyebrow: “He told you about that, did he?”

“He thought you were going to die. He told me a lot.”

“And you promised not to repeat any of it.” murmured a low voice from somewhere around Dora’s collar bone.

Still half asleep, Tommy clearly didn’t think to stop himself from nuzzling his face against Dora’s collarbone, humming low in his throat as he did so - just like he did when he was half in the grasp of a nightmare. It made something in Dora's heart clench - but she couldn't weaken. Not after everything that had happened over the last few weeks, not if she wanted to keep her heart intact. So she looked away, and raised an eyebrow at Polly, who smirked back at her. Clearly she wasn’t going to be telling Dora anything more than she already had.

Well, Dora didn't need Polly to tell her anything. Tommy was half unconscious, and Dora was going to get everything she could out of him. Something she conveyed to Polly with a look, sending the older woman out the door with a knowing smile. As if this conversation was going to be in anything other than like trying to get blood out of a stone.

But as it turned out, for once she didn’t have to put any effort into getting any information out of Tommy - he started talking all by himself. It must've been the medicine they put him on. Dora would have to get some herself; it sounded like it might feel fun.

“Do you know why I was attracted to Grace?”

_ Not exactly what I wanted to talk about...but information is information, _ I suppose, Dora thought: “She was something new? She was pretty? She wasn’t scared of you?”

“She wasn’t scared of me, that was part of it.” Tommy agreed: “But also because she didn’t look like you.”

Dora frowned - but didn't speak. Of course she didn't look like Grace; Grace was soft where Dora was nearly all straight lines, her hair was blonde where Dora's was fucking ginger, and Grace was poised and elegant where Dora...Dora was just one of the boys, and she acted like one. And was fine with that.

But that didn't mean she liked being compared to Grace Burgess.

Thankfully, Tommy was at least trying to explain himself: “I didn't like the way she looked, but she didn’t look like you, and then when she wasn't scared of me, that...I figured that would have to be enough. I couldn't have someone who looked like you. I had to stop going after women that looked anything like you after I...”

“After you what?”

Tommy hesitated for a few seconds, before muttering: “I called a girl your name. She didn’t mind - she was a whore over in France, I don’t even think she understood much English...but I called her Dora, and I had to start seeing women that looked nothing like you. In case I slipped up again, and it was with someone who might talk. Might tell you about what I’d done.”

Dora wasn’t quite sure why Tommy was telling her about a French whore...except that she did.

Tommy didn’t - _with the exception of Grace, if that even was an exception_ \- and never had done relationships, not since Delia Abbot when he was fifteen, and she’d broken his heart too. What Tommy did do was charm, or pay, his way into women’s knickers for a night or two. He fucked women, and that was about as far as his relationships went. The fact that he’d called another girl her name meant more coming from him than it would coming from anyone else.

“So why do you think about me - or try not to think about me - when you’re fucking other women?”

“You know the answer to that, Dora.”

She did - but she wanted to hear him say it, just in case she was wrong. Or in case she was right: “My head is fuzzy from blood-loss. Tell me anyway.”

Tommy sighed, but after a second he answered despite his obvious discomfort: “Because I wished they were you. Even when I was trying to not think about you.”

As soon as he’d told her that he’d called someone her name during sex, Dora had known that Tommy wanted something more than friendship from her.

She'd needed to hear it confirmed, but she'd known. It made her heart soar...and sink. Because if there was one thing worse than Tommy not loving her, it would be not loving her and fucking her anyway. That would break her heart worse than anything - even leaving Tommy and the Shelbys behind. It actually fucking scared her, the idea that Tommy would fuck her and be gone the next morning, and Dora wasn't scared of much. So no matter how much she wanted to leave it at just 'Tommy wants to be more than friends'...but she couldn't.

Nothing was ever that simple with Tommy. Nothing was ever 'just' anything. So Dora had to keep digging, even if she didn't know if she'd like what she heard.

_Best to get it over with quickly._

“So, is it just that you want to fuck me because you never have before and you want to know what it's like? Or because I’m somehow unattainable because I’m ‘one of the boys’? Or is it actually _me_ that you want to fuck?”

Tommy made a strangled noise - but he didn't look up to look her in the eye when he answered: “You know the answer to that, too.”

Dora sighed: “I wish I did, Tommy, but I don't. I really don’t.”

Making another strangled noise, more pained than before, Tommy hauled himself up onto his good arm to look down at Dora: “Theodora Crawford, I’ve loved you ever since you beat seven shades of hell Delia Abbot after she broke my heart by kissing Freddie Thorne. I knew I’d love you forever when you then proceeded to punch Freddie in the mouth and told him to think with his brain and not his cock. I was reminded that I would always love every time I came you you in the middle of the night and you opened your door and your arms to me. And I was right. I’ve never stopped loving you...and, if you’ll let me, I’ll make up for all the things I said before we fought Billy Kimber.”

Although part of Dora wanted to draw this out - _ it had hurt what Tommy had said to her, and it was nice to be told she was loved _ \- Dora couldn’t be shitty to Tommy, not about this: “Tommy...I’d like that too.”

“Thank you, Dora.” Tommy whispered, leaning down so his faces was just inches from hers, before his expression turned pained: "Thank you so much."

Then he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Dora's hand rose to cup the back of Tommy's neck, pulling him closer. It was chaste, and sweet, and nothing like Dora would have expected from Tommy...but she lost herself in it all the same. In the warmth of his hand on her cheek, the smell of cigarette smoke and the aftershave that was his only luxury, the softness of his lips against hers.

And then she felt how tense he was against her, realised the hand on her cheek was shaking, and she gently pushed him away - just an inch.

Just enough to speak: “How about you make it up to me after we get out of this hospital bed?”

Tommy didn’t look convinced...if anything, he looked worried: “Can I stay here?”

“I’d like that, as well.” Dora smiled, gently guiding Tommy back down the mattress so he was lying by her side again, face once more resting against her shoulder: “I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you, Dora. And I always will. I'll prove it to you, I swear.”

"I know you will."


	15. Proposal

A week later, and the hospital were willing to let Dora out, providing she was under almost constant supervision.

Of course, Tommy was all too quick to volunteer to 'help her out'.

Dora had laughed at him, thinking that he couldn't be serious - he had a new business empire to run, and a gunshot wound of his own - but Tommy was in earnest. He drove Dora back to Watery Lane as carefully as he could, even going so far as to take an indirect route just because the roads were less rough. He'd made her bedroom liveable after a week of her being locked up...and it didn't escape her notice that she had a new, far more comfortable mattress on her bed along with softer blankets and feather pillows to lean against. Tommy blushed faintly when she raised an eyebrow at the sight, but he didn't mention it...and neither did Dora. Because no-one had ever bought her things like this.

Everyone assumed that because Dora still dressed like a man, she must only want things that men would want. Her sisters knitted her scarves and gloves in masculine colours, or bought her new boots at Christmas, while Arthur was the one to buy her guns and razors every birthday, and John usually shoved pairs of socks at her that she knew he hadn't picked out, because they were usually too nice for his tastes.

Only Tommy ever bought her feminine things - and even they were usually practical. A women's watch with a slim black leather strap, a necklace with the first bullet she'd ever been shot with on it, a beautiful switchblade with opals in the handle. She'd loved every one of the gifts, but this...this was something else.

Everything he'd bought her felt so soft and warm against skin scratched raw by starched hospital sheets, and it all smelt of soft lavender and faint soap. And to top it all off...all of it was in her favourite colour: a deep, rich shade of blue that reminded her of the midnight sky.

She loved it.

And as if being let out of hospital and coming back to the nicest bedroom she'd ever been in wasn't enough, Tommy left her to get settled only to come back upstairs with a bunch of flowers, a bottle of white rum - _stuff he maintained was filth, even if it had always been her favourite drink_ \- and a new penny dreadful paperback. He helped her settle more comfortably against the pillows, carefully avoiding touching the skin exposed by her nightie, before settling in a chair next to her bed.

"So, you've brought all this to entertain me...what are you going to be getting up to to keep yourself busy?" Dora raised any eyebrow: "I know you won't be partaking in any of my rum."

Tommy pulled a face: "Even if I wanted to go anywhere near it, I'd know better than to get between it and you, wouldn't I?"

"Just checking." Dora smiled, before repeating her question: "So? You have an empire to run now, Tommy, not just a kingdom. There'll be people out for what you took from Kimber, not to mention you're still healing yourself..."

"I'm fine." Tommy shrugged, not even wincing when the move must of pulled at his own shoulder wound: "My injury wasn't half as bad as yours...and Arthur and Polly are holding the fort with the business until you're better."

Once again, Dora had to raise an eyebrow: "And you're okay with that?"

Tommy merely raised an eyebrow back at her: "You think they gave me a choice? Even if I wanted to be at work rather than with you, they'd skin me for not being by your side. As it stands, there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now than with you...and my family were more than happy to facilitate that. Unless..." suddenly there was a hint of insecurity hiding behind the back of Tommy's eyes: "...Would you rather have Hattie stay with you? Or Polly?"

"Of course not!" Dora exclaimed, reaching out to grab Tommy's hand when it looked like he might try and pull away: "I just...I just wouldn't want you to get bored helping me through this recovery when I know you've got important things to worry about..."

"Dora," Tommy breathed, his voice deadly serious as he grabbed both her hands in his and leaned in to look her in the eye: "There is _nothing_ and _no-one_ more important to me than you."

_Oh..._

Dora's heart felt like it was trying to flutter out of her chest.

She was important - more than that, she was the most important person to Tommy, the most important person in her own life. How was she not supposed to feel like her heart was soaring? She beamed at him, and his own face split into an answering smile, before he leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to hers.

"Well, if you haven't got anything else to do..." Dora murmured in a husky voice: "Maybe you should get into bed with me."

"You're still recovering..." Tommy trailed off.

"Then grab a bottle of whiskey and come and read this with me." Dora held up her penny dreadful: "Or do you not remember how I taught you to read?"

Tommy laughed, disappearing just long enough to go downstairs and grab the bottle of whiskey she kept for him in the kitchen, before reappearing in his shirt sleeves and socks and crawling into bed with her. He pulled the blankets up over the pair of them, resting an arm around Dora's shoulders and pulling her into his side before they settled down with the book he'd bought her. It was just like when they were kids: mocking and laughing at the hero and heroine's ridiculous decisions, trying to out-do each other with ridiculous voices, making up their own stories of what they would've done if they were the star of the book they were reading.

And just like when they were kids, it only ended when they fell asleep leaning on each other for comfort and warmth. Tommy occasionally woke Dora up to have some food, or to go to the bathroom, or to take her medication, but before she knew it another week had passed and she was ready to finally leave the house. Ready, and itching.

Spending a week with Tommy had been fun, but she was going stir-crazy inside her house, and she could see that Tommy knew it. Which was why she wasn't surprised when he disappeared one morning and came back with the car - even though he was adamant that she would be surprised by what they were doing. He only laughed when she insisted that she told him, kissing her quickly before focusing on the road.

Trusting him completely, Dora was happy to let the road pass under the car, watching the scenery go past them until they were finally in one of the most expensive hotels in Birmingham.

"Tommy..."

"Come on, I have a private room booked for us to have dinner in."

"Will they even let us in, dressed like this?"

"We're Peaky fucking Blinders - and you're Theodora fucking Crawford. They'll let us do whatever we want."

Just like Tommy promised, the staff didn't say a word when they entered through the grand front doors, despite Dora's plain black trousers and un-tucked white shirt. They merely showed Tommy to a private room that was decorated like something out of a fairy tale.

The gold of the vaulted ceiling glowed in the candle-light that sparkled from the crystal chandeliers, chandeliers that glittered against the flocked black velvet wallpaper and gilt panelling. It was looked like a room in a princess' castle. A table was set up in front of a roaring fireplace, with a vase of beautiful orange roses _(another of Dora's favourites - not that she thought anyone but her and maybe Hattie and Clara had known about that)_ and a bottle of the most expensive white rum money could buy. Dora spun round and round, taking in as much of the room as she could until she was laughing and dizzy, and stumbled into Tommy's waiting arms.

He reached up to run the back of his hand over her cheek, smiling softly when she giggled at him: "You're beautiful when you're laughing. Almost as beautiful as when you're cutting someone."

Dora grinned, but she was still too breathless from laughing to speak...so she kissed Tommy instead.

Unlike their other kisses, this one was soft or chaste. Tommy's teeth sunk into her lower lip, making her gasp and moan as he sucked the sting away. One hand was on her cheek, keeping her face close to his, even as the other was on her hip, urging her into hooking a leg around his waist.

Tommy rocked his hips against her, and both of them groaned at the sensation, heat flaring through Dora as the pit of her stomach tightened. She ground back against him, felt his hand clench on her hip, before suddenly he was hauling her up against him and pushing her against the nearest wall, pinning her there to keep her at his mercy while he kissed her.

"Dora, I want to fuck you - tell me I can. Please, say I can."

"Tommy..." Dora moaned as his fingers slid into her trousers and teased along her slit over her knickers: "...Fuck me. Please fuck me."

He smirked when the feeling made her start to shake, whispering in her ear about how good she was going to feel, how hot and wet, how much he couldn't wait to pin her up against the wall and wrap her legs around his waist, until Dora couldn't take it anymore and sunk her teeth into his neck - hard. He stiffened against her, freezing in place, and then he was growling that if she wanted to play dirty, then he could play dirty too, before suddenly he was no longer pining her up against the wall.

Dora blinked, and suddenly Tommy was crouched on one knee in front of her, fumbling with her belt pulling her trousers with a determined expression, before pausing just as suddenly as he'd started. He buried his face against her abdomen, panting for breath before groaning and pulling away.

...But he stayed on one knee...

"Dora Crawford...I didn't bring you here to fuck you against a wall."

"There's a table over there?"

Tommy laughed, but shook his head: "Don't tempt me...our families are waiting in the next room."

"Jesus fuck!" Dora exclaimed, checking her belt was still firmly in place and desperately trying to put her clothes in some kind of order, much to Tommy's amusement: "Why on earth did you let me tell you to fuck me when you knew my baby sisters were in the next room?"

"Your baby sisters? Hattie with her brood of children and Clara with her multiple past boyfriends?" he asked with a raised eyebrow - before shaking his head again: "And stop distracting me. I have a question for you."

Dora grumbled: "Is it about immaculate conception? Because that's how Hattie got pregnant, and as for Clara's boyfriends - "

"Theodora Crawford, _will you marry me_?"

Time stopped.

Dora watched as Tommy pulled out a small burgundy velvet box from his pocket, and opened it to expose a beautiful diamond ring. She recognised it immediately; it was Polly's engagement ring, a small diamond glinting on a slender gold band...and an engagement ring.

An _engagement ring_.

Because Tommy was asking to_ marry her_.

"Oh, Tommy...yes. Yes!" Dora went down onto her own knees, throwing herself into Tommy's arms and crying against his neck. She could feel his own tears on her skin, before he pulled back to gently slip the ring onto her finger: "Tommy..."

"I love you, Dora. And I'm honoured that you've agreed to marry me, even if I don't deserve you...you've made me the happiest man to ever live..."

Dora used her free hand to wipe her tears away, smiling helplessly in the face of Tommy being overcome with emotion...not that she was any better herself: "Tommy, I...you've made the happiest woman ever...I...I love you so much."

Despite her speechlessness, Tommy seemed to understand what Dora was saying. He pulled her hand up to press a kiss to where the ring was now securely on her finger, then leaned in to kiss her again properly.

"We heard her say yes!" Arthur bellowed all of a sudden, the sound muffled by a shut door but still loud enough to jolt Tommy and Dora apart: "And now it's gone suspiciously quiet...you better not be up to any funny business, Thomas!"

"Yeah, you leave that girl alone!" John added.

Tommy was shaking his head: "Betrayed by my own brothers. Fine!" he raised his voice so their combined families could hear him on the other side of the door: "You lot had better come in, then!"

Everyone swarmed in, her sisters, the Shelby brothers, Polly, Hattie's husband and children, Ada and Freddie and baby Karl: they all gathered around Tommy and Dora to congratulate the happy couple.

And Dora had never been happier.


	16. 1921 (Epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last bit of this story. It ended up being almost twice as long as I originally planned, and took my a lot longer to write, but now it's up and I've love to hear what everyone thinks about it. Any comments, anything that could be improved, any thoughts on anything, please do tell me in the comments.

Dora looked up from her desk when her husband slammed the door to her office opened, leaning back in her chair and smirking when he reached for the bottle of whiskey on her desk. He looked furious - and it made Dora want to laugh.

It served him right for trying to go legitimate. She'd warned him it would be no end of trouble...but her Tommy had ambitions, and Dora would be a liar if she said she didn't share them.

She and Tommy were going to rule the world one day - at least as much of it as they wanted.

"How's the car parts industry going?"

Tommy growled at her, downing his whiskey and lighting a cigarette: "Remind me why I decided I wanted to run a legitimate business?"

"Because I told you we needed a legitimate cover for moving our less legitimate items."

"...That's right." Tommy nodded, as if just remembering that fact: "So how come you're sitting here, with the books and John and Arthur and the men, and me, Polly, and Ada are stuck with fucking paperwork and fucking lawyers and accountants..."

Dora laughed, getting up from her chair and rounding the desk to drop into Tommy's lap: "Because I'm scarier than you are."

"Yes you are." Tommy smirked, leaning up to kiss along the line of Dora's jaw: "Yes you fucking are."

A hand crept up under Dora's shirt, the cold of his hand making her squeak and laugh against Tommy's mouth. He laughed with her, the hand under her shirt leaving her back to reach up and cup her cheek.

It was so easy, at times like this - when there was no-one asking questions, no phones ringing, nothing threatening to go tits up - to realise how far the pair of them had come.

Twenty years ago, Tommy and Dora had made friends rolling around fighting in the mud. They'd run through Small Heath barefoot and starving as children, learning to pick pockets and run small cons that eventually started to put food in their mouths. Arthur Senior had left, and the pair of them had helped Arthur run the business until the war. Yes, they'd had their problems while he was away - _and when he came back_ \- but now...now there was no more mud for them. No more hand-me-down clothes or second-hand boots. No more starving and sharing one of their meals between the two of them. They were going to be fucking royalty, a king and queen...and they were going to do it together.

Dora and Tommy smiled at each other for a few seconds, the irritation on melting away as Dora smiled at him, before she leant down and kissed him properly. Somehow Dora ended up with a leg on either side of Tommy's lap, pressed against her husband from hip to chest. She felt Tommy moan, the quiet sound vibrating through her skin before he made her moan in return by slipping his hands down to cup her rear, pulling her harder against him as he ground his hips against the cradle of her thighs.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..." her husband murmured, over and over between kisses that trailed down her neck and the skin exposed by him starting to open her shirt.

Dora clutched at the back of his neck, nails raking gently across his skin as his lips traced over her collar bone and the scar just beneath it, making her sigh out: "Fuck, I love you too..."

Tommy smirked against her scar, when someone cleared their throat from the doorway: "Don't you two have business to attend to?"

Dora looked up to see Polly smirking at them: "Are you telling me my husband didn't just come to say hello?"

"Unfortunately not. You still got that list of people we could work with in London?" Tommy asked her - voice steady but eyes gleaming where his aunt couldn't see them.

"Of course I do. Why?"

Tommy grinned: "We're going to need it, Dora. We're finally expanding."

Realisation came in a flash, and she grinned back at her husband, overjoyed to know they were finally going to put their plans in motion: "London's not going to know what hit it."

They were Shelbys. They were the Peaky Blinders. They were un-fucking-stoppable. Dora knew that, together, she and Tommy would make the world their own. Nothing would stop them.

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...finished!
> 
> Please do leave any comments below, because I'd love to hear what you thought of Tommy and Dora.


End file.
